Maxwell
by h.lovely
Summary: Several years after the war, on the streets of Earth, Duo Maxwell is pulled out of his reclusive life by an old comrade seeking help with a murder conspiracy. - "If that were you, wouldn't you feel a little disgruntled if the rest of us just ignored it and moved on?" "If that were me, I wouldn't be feeling disgruntled. I wouldn't be feeling anything. I'd be dead." - 1x2x1
1. Free From All The Picture Perfect

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing, except for the words I've written.

The image used for this story is _not_ my own in any way. It belongs to _artofcarmen_ (Deviantart). I was inspired to craft my story around this amazing art piece.

**A/N:** Very loosely based off of Lee Child's novel, _Bad Luck and Trouble_. Written from Duo Maxwell's perspective, though still in third person, with a stream of consciousness style. Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, and mild adult themes. Each title is inspired by a song, listed at the beginning of each chapter.

Will update on Sundays and sometimes Wednesdays when possible. Chapters are not terribly long and I'm not planning to write them terribly long.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 1: Free From All The Picture Perfect**

_Photograph - The Verve Pipe_

The lean and slightly intoxicated twenty-one year old sauntered down the street with an arrogance that seemed to portray him to the world as someone important, but in all actuality he was just an asshole who projected confidence because that's how you get what you want in a world like this.

It had been four years since the war and still he hadn't grown up, hadn't found a place to settle, hadn't committed to anything except maybe the idea that he should probably _be_ committed. He wasn't crazy in the contextual sense, but in the 'fucked up and emotionally disconnected' sense. But hell, he didn't really care; he liked being fucking unpredictable in that predictable sort of way.

"Shit," he muttered under sultry breath, as a throb assaulted his skull. He reached up to touch an old injury he'd gotten after abandoning the only person who ever actually cared about him in a hospital on X-18999. It was some kind of fucked up karma for running out when things got shitty.

He'd been caught in an explosion, a terrorist bomb on one of the vague colonies he'd been hiding out on. Half his scalp had been removed from the bonds of his skull and though his braid still hung down his back, most of the right side of his head was shaved in an oddly attractive way due to the fiery explosion. Shit fuckin' painful, but he figured he'd had some kind of twisted good luck that his whole head hadn't been blown off. So now he had these gnarly scars and his hair wouldn't grow right in some places, thus the new look was born.

Karma didn't want to kill him, just fucking maim him and take away part of the thing he valued most. Fuckin' karma.

He thought about Heero in that damn hospital bed, Relena hovering over him like the worried mother he never had. It made him sick to think about. He'd run from place to place afterwards, hence the never settling. The war was over, the Gundams were gone, no one needed him anymore except maybe Quatre, but that was only because he was compassionate and selfish and wanted his friends to stay close. But he wasn't a 'stay close' kinda guy.

He'd crashed at Hilde's for a while, but when she'd gotten tired of his incessant dirtiness and the fact that he couldn't afford to pay rent she'd told him to get the fuck out. Every once in a while he heard from her, there was still a sense of vague friendship, but there was never another invitation. Though he wouldn't have stayed much longer anyways, it wasn't in his nature to stay anywhere for too long. Being a lonely, reckless vagabond and all that shit.

So he'd stayed under the radar and drank and smoked and did all of the shit he knew he shouldn't do, but the temptation was there so he took it. Got his mind off the nightmares and memories at least.

Duo Maxwell fished in the pocket of his black, leather jacket and pulled out the key to his hotel room. It took him a moment to focus and open the door, his muscles moving slower than his mind from the amount of whiskey doubles he'd gulped down over the last couple hours. Maybe not the best fuckin' choice. He felt his stomach lurch quietly as he thought about it.

When he entered the dark room he walked forward to turn on the lamp he knew to be standing next to the squeaky full bed, but his toe caught on something sitting just within the doorway. "Fuck."

He caught himself and dropped down to see what had caused him to nearly fall face first into the room's questionable carpet. His eyes found it first, moonlight from the still open doorway illuminating a rectangular manila envelope that had been slid under the door. Duo picked it up and it felt heavy, but it was still thin enough to have fit in the small crack between floor and door. His name was scrawled in dark block letters across the envelope. _Maxwell_.

"What the fuck?"

No one knew he was there. Hell, he barely knew he was there after all the benders he'd been going on lately. And besides he wasn't a moron; he'd checked in under a false name like he did everywhere in the ESUN. So where the fuck had this envelope come from?

The buzz he'd been feeling earlier had all but dissipated now that his mind was working on overdrive. Duo closed the door and turned on the light he'd been trying for before falling over the mysterious package. He sat down on the bed, cross legged, his braided hair falling over his shoulder.

Slowly, with more apprehension than he'd felt in a long time, he pinched the clasp on the back of the envelope and ran his thumb under the top to peel it open.

"Fucking shit..." He poured out the package's contents on the bed in front of him.

Photographs. Big ones that had been blown up to really capture every detail. They were all there, all five of them. Some of the pictures were from years ago, their faces younger, different in some ways but yet still the same as the newer images. They were all marked with a date, the last one having been taken not more than three weeks ago. There were random pairings and trios and some of all of them together. The newer ones were more solitary; they'd lost contact with each other over the years, it made sense, they were all on their own now.

But there was one in particular that made Duo's heart catch in his throat. His body was leaning against Heero's in a way that was all too fucking familiar for him. It was dark and he couldn't remember where they were or what was happening to make them think they weren't being followed. Obviously they were, obviously their was fucking photographic evidence. Duo was smiling in the picture, smiling at the stone-faced boy in a provoking manner, something he'd always done, but this time it had been different. There was no direct sign of affection in the still photograph that tauntingly stared up at him. But it was there, Duo saw it and he realized that others might too if they looked hard enough. The way they stood there, bodies touching ever so slightly, an emotional tension between them.

Duo felt the bile rising in his throat and with as much dexterity as he could manage he ran to the bathroom and was sick until all that was left was the pain of dry heaves.

"Dammit." He ran a hand over his face, feeling the sweat of stress and sickness that had accumulated on his forehead. Those pictures. _Shit_.

Carefully he stood and turned on the sink, splashing cold water over his features, trying hard to calm the muscles that were now twitching within his body. Those pictures. _Fuck_.

What kind of vindictive, sick fucking asshole sends pictures of a guy and people he knew in another life to said guy, someone who is, for all intents and purposes, dead to the world?

He wasn't sure how long he'd been standing there, staring at his pale reflection in the mirror above the faucet that still had a steady stream of cold water flowing out of it, when a knock on the door caused him to jump.

No one was supposed to know he was fucking here and he was starting to get pissed off. It was predictable, but he still looked out the peephole. Of all possible people of course it'd be him, he was a Preventer after all. Duo may run and hide and never tell a lie and all that bullshit, but you can't hide from the fucking Preventers.

"Wufei fuckin' Chang." He opened the door and gave a roguish smile. "You couldn't just leave me alone to wallow in self pity the rest of my goddamn life, could you?"

His humor was dry, but less poignant than he would have liked. But he'd just thrown up his guts, hadn't he? Realizing that he must look like shit, he ran fingers through his chestnut bangs as Wufei stared at him in that cold, classic Wufei way.

Duo had forgotten that the photographs were still strewn about the bed, but when the Chinese man pushed past him he bit his tongue, inwardly yelling at himself for being so stupid and careless.

There was no stopping it now. No matter the reason for Wufei's untimely and unannounced visit, they were now going to be talking about those damn pictures. No way around it.

"Wasn't that a thoughtful little gift?" Duo asked, slamming the door and watching the man as he eyed the pile of glossy images.

"Who sent you these?"

"Fuck if I know."

"What are they?"

Duo raised his brows with a mischievous grin. Always fuckin' mischievous, even now in his 'old age.' "Ain't you ever seen a photograph before, 'Fei?"

Wufei turned towards him with a glower. "I mean what is their purpose?"

"I'll say it again, fuck if I know." He watched as Wufei stared at the photograph of himself and Heero; his stomach tightened.

"Listen 'Fei, they were waiting for me when I got home. If I had anymore answers don't you think I'd tell you?" He wanted to get the man's attention away from the particularly personal image. Hell, he knew everyone was aware of him and Heero, but, you know, it was still kind of an intimate picture.

"This is home?" Wufei looked around, unimpressed and it made Duo's brows furrow.

"Does that surprise you? No judginess from Mr. Perfect Preventer Man, okay? Save it." Part of Duo wanted the man to respond with something more, he wanted the banter that he secretly sometimes missed. Wufei said nothing.

Instead he picked up a photograph, one of the few that included all five of them, and stared at it with a soft irritation. They were sitting aboard Peacemillion. Duo noticed how irritated Wufei also looked in the image and it made him laugh internally. The man's disposition hadn't fucking changed.

Both of their eyes studied the picture together. It looked as if it were taken from an old security feed. They hadn't all been in a room like that, together, in a long fucking time. Nowadays they all had their own lives, or at least they tried to call them lives.

Quatre was the one who had everything, at least when it came to wealth and stature and respect. He also had death threats and probably the most stressful job out of the group, but shit if he wasn't still the most compassionate and level headed. Duo hadn't talked to him in person in a long time, but seeing him in the newspapers and on television gave him the feeling that he still knew the man well.

Trowa he was less sure of. The last he'd heard of him he was still traveling through the ESUN doing the whole high wire act thing. He hid himself well, but always kept the name Barton, which made Duo think that maybe a small part of him wanted to be found if absolutely essential. After the war, the man had been offered a job with the Preventers, like they all had, but he'd declined it, probably in a more appropriate way than Duo had. But hell, it was a hilarious fucking conversation, how was he supposed to know they were serious?

It never surprised him much that Wufei, good ole honorable 'Fei, was the one to actually accept the job. Though he suspected it may have had something to do with the whole guilt thing from the Mariemaia fuck up. But Duo didn't care much to get into that argument as much as he'd always enjoyed their running dialogue. Stubborn and quick witted as they both were, it was usually pretty fucking entertaining.

And then there was Heero. Shit, he had a hard time looking at that old picture, set somewhere in between angry flirtation, denial, and casual sex. They could pilot giant machines of death, but they couldn't reconcile stupid, probably meaningless feelings. He hadn't seen Heero since the hospital and God only knows where that recluse had been all these years.

The only pilot Duo had any contact with had been Wufei and that was just because the Preventers never seemed to quite let him out of their insecure sites. He guessed they probably thought he might start blowing stuff up or causing chaos somewhere. Hell, the only chaos he caused was in his own fucking life and in his own fucking mind.

He looked up at Wufei and actually noticed him for the first time since he'd knocked on the hotel room door. He looked fit, maybe even more so than during the war. The Preventer uniform suited him and he looked professional and maybe a little older than the last time he'd seen him. Duo wasn't sure when that had been, but time wasn't really something he cared to keep track of these days. He wore a nice watch, seemed comfortably well off, and still held himself with that air of quiet superiority that always made Duo cringe.

For a moment the braided man felt awkward about his own disheveled clothing and the fact that his hair might have been a bit messier than usual. He normally had no one to look good for, so what the hell did he care? But here, in front of this old comrade, he felt somehow inadequate, like 'Fei was making it and he wasn't.

Duo cleared his throat. "So to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Wufei had been studying the ordinary manila envelope, addressed too specifically for either of their likings. He looked up. "I think you may want to sit down for this, Maxwell."

Duo laughed. "Geeze, who died?" .

Wufei didn't move, didn't flinch a damn muscle, just stared that blank stare like he couldn't even understand why Duo would be making jokes right now. Swallowing hard, the braided man sat. No more fucking jokes.

When the words left his mouth Duo had the worst impulse to laugh again, though he didn't because Wufei was being all business and seriousness as improbable as his statement could possibly be. A ringing began in his head as the words echoed back through his ears.

"Heero Yuy is dead."

_No shit_.


	2. This Is The Life Of Illusion

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, and mild adult themes.

**A/N:** I have decided to start updating on Wednesdays as well as Sundays when I can, so be on the lookout for more frequent updates. Please leave a review if you are so inclined, I'd _love_ to know what you think of this story so far. So without further ado, here's Chapter 2.

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 2: This Is The Life of Illusion**

_Grease - Frankie Valli_

In life Heero Yuy had been barley smaller than Duo, but damned if he wasn't more powerful than the entire lot of them. He was thin yet muscular, ordinary yet roguishly handsome. He had been cold, reckless, and detached. There was no fucking way to kill him during the war and there certainly was no fucking way to kill him now.

Duo sat across from Wufei at a diner of his choosing, a place that the Preventer certainly seemed to have a distaste for, which probably ended up being the main reason in choosing it. The sun had been up for little over an of hour. Wufei had instructed that the man get some sleep, but the bags under Duo's eyes suggested that he hadn't heeded the advice very well. But hell, what did he expect? Fuckin' Shinigami at it again. _Heero Yuy is dead_. That's the kind of news you give a guy at one o'clock in the morning?

It was true that Duo hadn't seen Heero in three years, but shit, looking down at the autopsy photograph set out on the sticky table top before him, he didn't even look like the person he had known during the war. His body was stiff and flat on the table in an unnatural way. The camera's flash had bleached his skin an ominous shade that made Duo's empty stomach cringe.

Shit fuckin' awful.

But then again, dead people do often tend to look pretty awful.

"Why do you have this?" Duo asked.

"It's my case," Wufei replied.

There was a pause of silence. "But don't you need like _perspective_ or something? He was-well he was-"

"He was one of us," Wufei filled in the blank. "I was asked to investigate because of that."

Shit, of course he was one of them, but that didn't mean they needed to get all nostalgic and get the gang back together just because one of them was now dead laying in some Preventer morgue somewhere. They should have probably all died on many different occasions during the war, so why would it matter now? He felt a lump in his throat.

"Where was he found?"

"About thirty miles out of Sanc. A field, nothing unusual, nothing for miles, about a hundred yards off the main road. No footprints." Wufei was succinct in his description. Fucking Preventer protocol and all.

"What, was he just dropped out of thin fuckin' air?" Duo was getting impatient. His exterior indifference and interior denial were starting to crumble. He wanted answers though he knew Wufei didn't have them. Obviously he didn't. Obviously that's why he was here.

The question was ignored. "I need your help."

"My _help_?" Duo was actually taken aback. Mr. Big Shot Preventer Man needed his help. That was a first.

"You were the closest to him."

"That was a long time ago, 'Fei."

"Preventer is willing to compensate you for your services. A contract to hire deal." Wufei seemed almost desperate and it made Duo smirk.

"I already told Une when she came lookin' for me that I am _not_ Preventer material."

"No one's forcing you to take the job. But now, with those pictures you were sent, this might be bigger than we think."

Duo knew what he meant. They'd already sent the photographs in to be analyzed. Someone had been following them, documenting their every move. Someone out to get them, blackmail them...murder them. Fuck, they'd already skipped the initial steps, they'd already murdered Heero.

He sighed, trying not to think about the autopsy report and Heero's cold skin and the way they leaned on each other in that old picture. "You think it's related?"

Wufei looked down at the table. "Could be. We can't assume, we can't speculate." Good old 'Fei, taking the joy out of everything. Speculation was something Duo was good at.

The waitress came and their conversation paused as she unloaded her tray. Duo stabbed his fork at a piece of practically cremated bacon and used his other hand to pull the autopsy closer to him for a better look. His stomach had finally settled, but he realized by Wufei's quirk of an eyebrow that maybe it was weird to eat and look at the dead body of his comrade. Ex-comrade that is. But, shit, he was hungry.

Wufei held his steaming cup of tea by the handle and gave it a blow. "Two Preventers found the body. They said it was like he had fallen from the sky. The autopsy report seems to align with that idea."

Duo squinted his eyes. The body certainly resembled Heero Yuy, but there was something about it that didn't sit well with him. Maybe it was the thought of the perfect solider free falling, flailing through the air. But he'd self destructed, been shot, jumped out of a fucking hospital window. How could he be dead now, after all of that?

"ID was made through his fingerprints," Wufei added.

Beginning to skim the report, Duo barley heard him as his attention was on something else. "This says he fell from a shuttle." It was a statement and Wufei nodded.

Duo shook his head. "But it couldn't have been. A shuttle has a stall speed of, what? A hundred miles an hour? He'd have come out the door fast, hit the tail or the wing or some shit." It was amazing how smart the man could be when he actually applied himself.

Wufei stared at him in realization. "A helicopter then? Stationary hover."

Duo looked back down at the autopsy picture. He studied the man's arms, chest, legs. There were signs of the impact, but very few. Heero's body had been pretty fucking advanced he guessed.

And then he saw it, or rather didn't see it. His eyes studied a spot just above the man's hip bone in the little muscular recess Duo's lips had been rather acquainted with once upon a time. Heero had a scar there, it was long and jagged and one of the only scars the ex-pilot actually managed to have. Distinguishing to the point that it gave Duo a shiver to think of it. But the cold, dead body he stared at in that photograph had not one single scar.

"This isn't him."

Wufei looked up with calm eyes. "The fingerprints say otherwise."

"That's not fucking him. I'm telling you." Maybe Duo was just falling back on denial, but shit he knew the man better than anyone, as much as he might deny it to Wufei. He knew every curve, every inch of him and he knew for damn sure that that body on the table couldn't be Heero Yuy.

Shaking his head slowly from side to side Wufei just kept staring at him.

"Look, dammit, do you want my help or not, 'Fei?" Duo was getting mad. At the situation, at Wufei, at the Preventers for fucking tracking him all these years. And for what? So when someone that was supposed to be Heero got murdered they could try to enlist him? No fucking thank you.

"I want your help." Wufei seemed slightly quieter, like Duo's outburst had made him decide to change tactics. "If this isn't Heero Yuy then who is it and why does he possess Yuy's fingerprints?"

Duo looked at him for a moment before answering, his demeanor softer now. "I sure wish I could answer that question right now, 'Fei."

"There's something we need to do," Wufei said. Duo hated how he could still be so cryptic and make people hang on his every word and shit.

But still, Duo bit. "What do we need to do, Mr. Preventer Man?"

"We need to get the pilots back together."

* * *

They sat in the back of a nondescript car traveling back towards Wufei's swanky, Preventer expense's hotel. A man, also nondescript, was driving them which made Duo feel oddly ostentatious; he didn't like other people having to do things for him that he himself was perfectly capable of. But shit, it didn't seem like Wufei had a problem with it.

A duffel bag with the few important items that Duo carried around with him sat on the floor by his feet. There were a couple of guns and a switchblade in there somewhere and Wufei didn't ask about them because it was obvious he already knew. Hell, he always knew.

"Someone murdered Yuy. We can't just let it go." Wufei had been lecturing him since the moment they'd paid the check at the seedy diner.

"Someone got murdered, but it sure as hell wasn't Heero." Duo smiled. There was that little vein he remembered so fondly popping out of Wufei's forehead. They still hadn't quite been able to see eye to eye on the whole fraudulent autopsy situation.

Wufei clenched his teeth. "Let's just say, for all intents and purposes, that the body does belong to Yuy. If that were you, wouldn't you feel a little disgruntled if the rest of us just ignored it and moved on with our lives?"

"If that were me, I wouldn't be feeling disgruntled. I wouldn't be feeling anything. I'd be dead." He may have still been in shock by the lack of sleep and bizarre turn of events, but damned if Duo wasn't going to answer stupid questions with stupid sarcastic remarks.

His response was a rough sigh. "You get my point, Maxwell."

Duo wondered for a moment why Wufei was suddenly so concerned the with well being of the people he hadn't been in contact with since the war. He'd always been a lone wolf, hell looking back at those photographs he was barely in any of them. Maybe the whole peace keeping Preventer shit had made him turn over a new leaf.

"I can handle it," Duo said. "Maybe _we_ can handle it. But we can't all just drop what we're doing and come back together as much fun as that little reunion would be. It'll never work."

Wufei replied quickly, "We need them."

"Why?"

"Because, even if Yuy is somehow still alive, someone out there was trying to kill him. And maybe not just him, maybe not just you or me. Those photographs were of all of us."

Duo had to admit that 'Fei had a pretty damn good point. The picture thing was spooky and maybe one of the others would know where to find Heero. The real Heero.

"Quatre, or even Trowa, should have been easier to find than me." Shit, Quatre was practically famous in the ESUN, how hard could it be to find him? Trowa, on the other hand, made a little more sense.

Wufei shook his head. "I can't reach either of them. I've left a dozen messages on the only number listed for Trowa Barton and Quatre's secretary is probably sick of my voice with how many times I've requested a call back."

Duo decided he was kinda glad he didn't carry a phone with him. Damn inconvenient sometimes, but most of the time he liked being completely off the grid.

Five pilots. How difficult could it be to get five people back together? Duo knew specifically where two of them were: traveling down I-78 in New Jersey. That only left three, or two if they weren't counting Heero. But Duo was definitely counting Heero.

The sound of Wufei's cell phone interrupted their thoughts. He answered curtly, said few things other than some "yes's" and "I see's" and then hung up. He turned to Duo. "Preventer got a call about a break in at a bank in Stockholm. Happened last night. Nothing was stolen, not a single dime, the only thing missing was the contents of a safe deposit box." He stared for a moment at his braided companion. "It was registered under the name Duo Maxwell."

Duo let his head fall backwards against the car's plush headrest. He'd been to Stockholm before, seeing as how close it was to Sanc, but he certainly didn't own a fucking safe deposit box. He closed his eyes tight and ran fingers over the shaved side of his head.

"Shit," he muttered, opening his eyes to look at Wufei. "Heero. It's got to be Heero. He always used my goddamn name for everything. Even when he enrolled in a fucking private school during the war."

Wufei raised his brows slowly and pocketed his cell phone, not breaking eye contact with the other man. Duo sighed raggedly; he needed sleep, he needed answers, but he knew those would now have to wait even longer. "Looks like we're going to Sweden."

* * *

Nine hours, 3,946 miles, and a slightly crankier Duo later, a new, more European, car made it to a Swedbank placed in the center of the city. It was still crawling with Preventers which made the braided man think that there was definitely something more to this than a simple break in. Wufei had told him nothing was stolen save for the oddly registered safe deposit box so why the need for all the security?

When they entered the building Wufei barely got a second look by the Preventers standing in the open doorway. There was an air of intimidation and Duo realized he must have been pretty hot shit within the organization to receive that kind of fearful respect. Of course, even during the war he'd had that effect on people.

Several people gave Duo a once over with suspicious eyes, but seeing as how he was traveling on the heels of their high and mighty Captain Chang, they didn't bother to say a word. He supposed he still probably looked like hell, the whole no sleep thing and all.

Wufei told Duo to wait a moment while he discussed something with a gray haired man. He might have been higher up in the chain of command but he seemed stiff around Wufei so he figured, despite the age difference, the Chinese man was still a superior. The whole situation began to make him feel inadequate again. 'Fei was making it and still he wasn't, he was just a fucking tagalong on a murder case that probably wasn't Heero Yuy, but the question was still annoyingly up for debate.

When Wufei returned to him he flicked his fingers forward in the air without another word and Duo followed him towards the back of the bank where the safe deposit boxes were housed. Normally there was a large gated doorway and locked metal door between the outside world and the hundreds of boxes lining the room's walls, but it was all open and a little ominously quiet for Duo's liking.

Once inside both men eyed the empty metal box, about one foot deep and several inches across, laying on a central table. It was totally empty, like they had expected. Shit, so what was the point?

"This is your department." The words coming from Wufei's mouth made the braided man squint. His department? The fuck was that supposed to mean?

It was obvious that his lack of response was a sign of either confusion or denial so again Wufei spoke. "You and I both know that Heero Yuy wouldn't be so stupid as to leave anything important in a safe deposit box. At least not out in the open, waiting to be found or stolen."

Duo swallowed. He knew what he meant and he knew why it was his department. Deception, sneakiness, thinking outside the box and all that shit. Yeah, that was his department.

He stepped forward and looked at the metal box. Ordinary. Fucking ordinary. His eyes roamed the edges and lines of the container, looking for some sort of clue, some sort of chink in the armor. Running his fingers along the bottom and in the creases he wondered wryly if Wufei only requested his help for the street smarts, when the pad of his pointer finger fell upon something that could possibly be the indication he was hoping for.

Duo grabbed for the knife residing in his back pocket. Lucky for them they'd flown private, Preventer private, and that meant no giving up the right to his personal weaponry. Fucking commercial airlines, he hated it.

He slipped the edge of his knife into the small space between metallic bottom and the box's long side and pulled up, angling the blade to wedge it in. With a pop, the floor of the container loosened slightly. He reached fingers into the space and pulled out two identical compact, white flash drives.

"Bingo." He held them up for Wufei to see, a smirk of satisfaction on his lips. "This what you were looking for, Mr. Preventer Man?"

Wufei grabbed the devices from his taunting fingers. He studied them in his hand with those quiet, black eyes. Each were marked with a date; one from several months ago, the other much more recent. "I'm sure they're password protected. Probably three tries before it wipes the contents."

Duo pointed to the drives with a long finger. He was confident and yet unsure. "Guess we better start figuring out just how well I actually know Heero Yuy."

He realized too late that his phrase should have been past tense. _Knew_.


	3. Pour My Life Into A Paper Cup

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, and mild adult themes.

**A/N:** As always, reviews are appreciated, thank you for any and all support!

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 3: Pour My Life Into A Paper Cup**

_Otherside - Red Hot Chili Peppers_

The hotel room they'd gotten just outside Sanc wasn't lavish, but it was a helluva lot better than the places Duo had been staying at lately. Preventer perks must be nice.

He and Wufei sat on the suite's couch, a laptop on the table in front of them. The Chinese man clicked the first of the flash drives into place, opting for the one dated earlier than the other.

"We have six tries to get the password correct. If this one gets wiped at least it was old information. The other one is more relevant, more important." Wufei stated it in a matter of fact way, but Duo knew he was just grasping at damn straws.

"And how do we know there's anything important on these in the first place?" His companion was obviously skeptical.

Wufei gave the man a pointed look. One of those fucking looks that could kill. "Someone was clearly looking for them. They were important enough for someone to break in and try to steal them from a safe deposit box in an extremely secure bank."

Duo didn't answer, only nodded. Yeah, it made sense. Hell, Wufei always made sense.

They stared at the screen as a small, white icon that resembled a hard-drive popped up. It was labeled _No Name_ which was without a doubt ironic for the two former Gundam pilots, a particular comrade coming to mind. But it was also another shitty, confusing thing thrown into the mix. It was so nondescript that still there was no positive evidence that these devices even belonged to Heero. But, hell, he was a mysterious fucking guy so what else could they expect?

Wufei double clicked the icon and a box emerged requesting a password with a green, blinking cursor that seemed to taunt them.

"Fuck, you were right 'Fei."

"This was inevitable, you knew that."

Sure it had been fucking inevitable, but he still didn't want to have to deal with it. Helping investigate a murder was one thing, but racking his brain for a combination of letters or numbers that Heero might find significant was another. Duo didn't want to think about him, didn't want to try and think _like_ him. Dammit, but he had to. Curiosity's a bitch after all.

Duo grabbed the pen and paper that Wufei had laid out for him. He tapped the end of the pen to his lips while he thought. After a moment he scribbled something down in his scrawling block letter handwriting. Wufei leaned over to scrutinize what he'd just written.

"Gundam? You don't think that's a bit obvious, Maxwell?"

Duo's indigo eyes flicked upwards to glare at the man. "I'm making a fucking list, 'Fei. That doesn't mean I'm gonna try the first thing that comes to mind. Geezus, do you have any better ideas?"

Wufei leaned back to signify that no he did not. Damn, impatient man. That was usually Duo's department.

He continued to write anything that came to his mind as Heero Yuy flashed throughout it. _Doctor J, Lowe, Zero, Relena, Preventer._ He sighed, this was much more fucking difficult than he thought it would be.

"Lowe?" Wufei asked, this time out of curiosity and since the man wan't chastising him anymore Duo decided to answer.

"He mentioned him once. He was the man who mentored him, raised him I guess you could say. I don't know about him, but that's a name that'd be pretty damn important to me."

Duo stared at the words he'd written. There were five viable options, though viable may have been a stretch. He thought about numbers, but there was something in the back of his mind telling him that Heero would definitely not choose numbers. Words were more important, they meant something. That's what a password was about, emotion, something with meaning.

"Shit, I guess we better just starting trying 'em, huh?" He turned towards Wufei with raised eyebrows. Both men were tenser than they needed to be.

Wufei placed his fingers atop the keys in waiting, but spoke first, staring at the screen. "Do you think he would have changed his password daily?"

Duo processed the question for a moment but finally shook his head. "Maybe...but _no_. Passwords are deep shit, personal shit. You take a word that means something and stick with it forever."

Wufei realized that the braided man next to him may have been smarter and wiser than he thought. That and he trusted in the fact that he knew Heero better than anyone. "Okay. Any particular order?"

Eyes studying the list, Duo sighed. "Try Relena first."

He watched Wufei type in the name, the image of the pretty, blonde woman floating into his mind. They both tensed and then, after hitting enter, a warning box popped up telling them the password was invalid and asking if they'd like to reenter it. Fuck, even the computer seemed to know they were desperate.

"Lowe," Duo instructed next, deciding to start with the names first. Hell, you know, it didn't really matter in the end anyways. Either they were gonna work or not.

Wufei tried the name, hit enter. _Invalid_.

Duo rubbed a hand over his mouth. He didn't like how nerve wracking this had become. Shit, he'd been the damned God of Death, fucking _Shinigami_, why couldn't he handle some simple password hacking? Maybe because Heero was just too fucking hard to read.

"Okay, two down. Now try Doctor J."

Wufei typed in the name, no spaces, hit enter. _Invalid_.

Instantly the computer screen went blank. Duo's brows furrowed. "What's happening?"

"The flash drive is wiping itself. Three incorrect passwords." Wufei's teeth were clenched with every word. Duo wasn't sure if he was pissed at him or at the situation, but for a moment he thought maybe the man was reconsidering the amount of faith he had in the ex-pilot. Shit, he was trying his goddamned best, wasn't he?

Wufei pulled the flash drive out and tossed it on the table. Useless, motherfucking useless. He pushed the newer one in, the same maddening screen popping up.

The braided man was becoming less than sure of himself. "Do we try Preventer?"

Wufei shrugged. "It's not like he didn't have involvement after the war. He never seemed to dislike the program. But you're the one calling the shots here."

Duo didn't like being the one calling the shots here. Not that he wouldn't like to be fucking large and in charge, but not like this. Not when it was this important. He thought about the photographs, the autopsy, and Heero for a split second and his stomach tensed.

"Try it."

"Are you positive?"

"Let's just say I'm a gambler, 'Fei. Try it."

Wufei typed in Preventer, hit enter. _Invalid_.

Every fucking time invalid. Duo's teeth ground together in frustration. Maybe they needed new perspective, maybe he didn't know Heero like he thought. Shit, he hadn't been around him in three years, a lot can change in three years. Like a hairstyle, priorities, a password.

"What's next? Wufei prompted. It was obvious he wanted to get through this so if the flash drives became a dead end they could start figuring other shit out as soon as possible.

Duo sighed. "Fuck it. Try Zero."

Zero. _Invalid_.

It took all of Duo's restraint not to slam his fits down on the coffee table in front of him. That was it, a fucking dead end. They had one more try and then nothing. But he was out of ideas. In that moment he wanted so desperately to find a dark pub and tell the barkeep to leave the bottle. Too much, too fast with too little progress.

"We could try Gundam," Wufei offered.

"No, you're right. Way too obvious."

"We could take a break. Come back to it." Duo knew it pained Wufei to suggest it, but this was better than completely scrapping their only lead.

"It won't do anything? We can just leave it like that?" he asked, staring at the computer screen, running fingers over his face; he needed a shave almost as much as he needed a shot of hard liquor.

"It should be fine." He sounded unsure. "There's other things we can try to accomplish in the mean time."

Duo looked up, his eyes were bloodshot. "Try to find the others?"

There was a nod and he realized that sleep would again have to wait.

* * *

It was nearly five o'clock now, by the time they got to the Winner Corp building in Sanc it would be just about closing time. Just in time to inquire about Quatre's whereabouts. Duo wondered why Wufei hadn't just gone there first, anywhere in Europe being closer to his base of operations than the U.S.

"Why would you come all the way across the ocean to find me, when Quat practically lives in your back yard?" he asked, looking out the window. He could nearly see the large towers of the Winner family business peaking out through the rolling hills of Northern Europe.

Wufei thought for a moment. "In all honesty, I didn't think you'd want to help. If I found you and you denied the Preventer offer then at least the hardest part would be over first."

Duo almost felt offended by the man's lack of confidence in him. He hadn't been getting into that much shit lately, had he? "You know, I'm _not_ accepting the Preventer offer. I'm helping an old friend." The word friend seemed to hang in the air for a moment.

There was a nod and Wufei spoke again. "Then hopefully the others are as easy to convince as you."

Duo figured Quatre would be game; compassion and camaraderie and all that bullshit. Trowa, on the other hand, might be harder, less willing. But it was smart to find the other half of that deal first; if anyone could convince Trowa it would be Quatre.

When they arrived at the Winner Corporation building and were walking through the impossibly tall glass doors of the front entrance, Duo realized that any inadequacy he'd felt around Wufei earlier was gone now, replaced by a feeling that he was not inadequate, just simply pathetic. The building was incredibly lavish and it seemed like he'd almost forgotten just how well off Quatre's family actually was. Shit, it made him feel like just another street rat back on L2 again.

It wasn't like Duo didn't have money; he did. But where that money had come from was a whole other fucking story. There was a time after the war when he thought he'd reformed, that something had changed, righted inside of himself. But, inevitable as it was, he'd slipped back into his old ways. He might have even felt a little guilty about it, but stolen and fraudulent money was still money and shit a guy's got to eat, right?

Wufei led him over towards an elevator bank, walking through the lobby as if he knew the building well. But of course he would know it well, wouldn't he? Being a Preventer and all, you'd seen everything, been everywhere, knew everyone. Damn, maybe he shouldn't have laughed out loud when he'd been offered such a position after all. Of course the whole money that was still money but wasn't _his_ money thing might have been a bit of an issue.

The elevator ride was quiet and long. Apparently Quatre's office was on the very top floor of the building. Fancy fuckin' executive suite he guessed. Duo smiled lightly at the internal comment.

When they'd arrived, Wufei turned to him with a nearly imperceptible sneer, like he knew he would be causing an argument, but what he had to say was goddamn important. "Let me do the talking, Maxwell."

Duo shrugged, not having much energy to even care at this point. The Preventer could do all the talking he liked as long is it got them where they needed to go. They walked up to a reception counter and were eyed by the middle aged woman sitting behind it. She wore a bluetooth piece in her ear and had a severity about her that made Duo wonder how Quatre could have a secretary that was anything but kind and sweet and a little bit of a push over. Those were the kind of secretaries that easily succumbed to his natural charms, though he supposed today, with Wufei 'doing the talking,' he wouldn't have to overextend himself.

"Can I help you?" her tone was biting, as if they'd just walked in at the most inopportune time. Duo looked around, the place was fucking desolate.

"We're here to see Mr. Winner." Wufei spoke with the upmost professionalism and flashed his Preventer badge for good measure.

The woman studied them. "He's not available at the moment."

The little vein in Wufei's forehead usually reserved for Duo began to show again. "I've called here a dozen times. He's _never_ available."

"Well I'm sorry sir, but you're just going to have to come back at another time." The woman seemed almost proud that she was ordering them away.

Duo noticed the slightest change in Wufei's muscles beneath his Preventer issue jacket, like he was tensing, ready for a dispute. But the tension of the situation was interrupted by a much more friendly, feminine voice from behind them. It made Duo jump, startling the shit out of him in the overly quiet top floor.

"Gentlemen, I do apologize, but my brother really is not available right now." Both men turned to face a woman, aged yet still youthfully beautiful. Her crystal blue eyes resembled those of Quatre, but other than that and the use of the word 'brother,' they would not have noticed the relation.

She held out a hand. "My name is Iria Winner. If you'd like to come with me, maybe I can try to clear some things up." The woman gave them a knowing look, almost like she recognized them.

Duo glanced over at Wufei, but the man was already walking forward, following Iria into an open conference room. Fuck, it was better than just leaving, still at the same damn dead end as they'd been at when they'd walked in. Duo followed and sat next to Wufei as the older woman sat down across from them. Both men folded their arms over their chests, waiting.

"I have to be brutally honest with you," Iria began. "I can't tell you where Quatre is."

No fucking shit. Of course she couldn't tell them, why make things more easy? Everything else seemed to be damn un-easy lately. Duo frowned in her direction, not about to take this crap anymore.

"Why not?" His words were harsher than he'd anticipated. Wufei gave him a sidelong glance with those steely eyes. Duo had forgotten their agreement that he wouldn't be the one speaking, but shit, it didn't seem to make much difference anymore anyways.

Iria's voice commanded their attention away from each other's glaring eyes. "I can't tell you, because I don't know where he is."

This was news. This was something they could possibly work with. If Quatre was missing then maybe the fire beneath their feet would start to burn fucking hotter and then they'd _have_ to figure out Heero's damn password and who'd sent those sick, fucking photographs.

Wufei sat forward. "How long has he been missing?"

She frowned. "I wouldn't go as far as to say he's missing. I just don't know where he is at the moment."

Duo rolled his eyes. Fuck, weren't those the same two things? Missing and absent, shit were they really getting into the logistics of things here?

"My brother's head of security, Rashid, told me a week and a half ago that Quatre had been sent a photograph." Both men tensed as she continued to explain. "It was a recent picture from when he'd been visiting a colony, overseeing a new expansion project for Winner Corp. I haven't had contact with either of them since."

Duo felt his muscles contract with her every word. Damn photographs. So he wasn't the only one who'd received something so fucked up. He wanted to start guessing, start laying things out on the table, start speculating. But hell if Wufei was going to let him do that. Speculation must have been something burned out of you during Preventer boot camp.

Iria gave them a sad smile. "I truly am sorry I cannot be of more help."

By the time they made it down the painfully long elevator ride and were walking briskly out of the building and towards the car Duo was beginning to rattle off everything he'd been holding in. He had another aching for brown, burning liquid on the rocks.

"Fucking photographs, 'Fei." He said through tight teeth. "You think he's hold up somewhere with the Maganacs?"

Wufei, keeping his composure slightly better than his comrade, turned his head. "That would be my first speculation...if I were speculating." There was that fucking smug look he hadn't seen in years that Duo had half a mind to wipe from his face.

"Dammit 'Fei, I'm being serious. Heero's human body double is dead." He got a dark look at that comment, but ignored it. "Both Quat and I and who knows else apparently have some kind of psycho stalker. Now blondie's missing. You have to admit that this is all beginning to feel a little too fucked up for comfort." Again he craved that banter, but it seemed Wufei had lost his smugness.

They climbed into the car without another word. Neither wanted to come right out and say it. What if Quatre had succumbed to the same fate as Heero supposedly had?

Too fucked up for comfort indeed.

* * *

Wufei left the car with the hotel valet and they entered the lobby. Still neither had spoken and that was saying something for Duo. He hated silence and filled it whenever damn possible. It was one of those things that Heero must have found endearing about him, because what other fucking reason would he have had for not killing him when he got the chance? And there were many chances. Duo decided quickly to stop thinking about that.

This elevator ride was much faster and didn't make him feel inadequate or pathetic or any of that shit. The only thing he felt was exhaustion. Maybe that had contributed somewhat to his quietness.

Wufei unlocked the door and pushed it open, Duo following closely behind.

Then they both stopped dead in their tracks.

Sitting on the couch they'd shared earlier, the laptop still open in its infuriating place, skimming Heero Yuy's autopsy report was a man in nondescript clothing, a man they knew all too well.

Tall, lean, calculating.

Trowa Barton.


	4. Hate To Say I Told You So

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, and mild adult themes.

**A/N: **Thank you for your follows/reviews, as always they are so appreciated! I will be out of town on Sunday, so you get this chapter a day early. Enjoy.

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 4: Hate To Say I Told You So**

_Hate To Say I Told You So - The Hives_

Trowa looked up through his familiar curtain of bangs. "I was beginning to think you weren't coming back."

The door slammed behind them. Wufei stared at the man, the corner of his lips quivering upwards. "How'd you get in here?"

Trowa stood and answered with a raise of his brows and a barely perceptible smile as if to say "fucking please." At least that's how Duo decided to interpret it.

"Where the hell have you been, Tro?" Duo asked. It was bizarre to see him after all this time, though he hadn't changed much since the war. He still carried himself on the balls of his feet, agile and always ready. His face had aged, matured like all of theirs had, but hell that was unavoidable, wasn't it? Still, he was the same mysterious Trowa that they remembered.

"Life in a traveling circus is not always a predictable one," he answered cooly. "I was on an outreaching colony when I first started receiving your unrelenting messages."

Wufei let out a single laugh at his comment. "And here I thought you were just ignoring me."

"I realize now the need for all the urgency." Trowa's eyes drifted back to the autopsy image now residing on the coffee table.

Duo stared at him, crossing his arms over his sinewy chest. "You know, I was banking on us finding Quat before you. Thought we might have to wrestle you back here somehow." He grinned roguishly. "But look, here you fucking are, breaking and entering and shit."

Trowa gave the braided man a quietly amused look. "Nice to see you too."

"How _did_ you get in here, Barton?" Wufei wondered, staring at the door which was now closed securely behind them. Humorous images flooded Duo's mind of Trowa scaling the hotel wall, all stealthy and acrobatic as always, flipping around until he was able to climb in through the fucking window.

"A truly great artist never reveals his secrets." The reply was cryptic, but seeing who it came from, the other two men were satisfied. He spoke again, turning towards the autopsy and open laptop. "What have you got so far?"

"You know most of it by the autopsy report," Wufei said, gesturing for them all to have a seat. They did silently and then he went on. "A safe deposit box was found with two flash drives hidden inside. We are fairly certain they belonged to Yuy."

"How certain are you?" Trowa wondered, staring at the discarded device that had been tossed atop the coffee table.

"Seventy-five percent?" The Preventer answered from his spot in an armchair next to the couch. Duo found it wry that he answered in question form; maybe the man really was beginning to think this was going to be a dead end.

"Better get into 'computer security mode,' Tro," Duo said with a grin. "We've only got one more damn try at coming up with a valid password. No pressure or anything." He suppressed the urge to wink. It was something he would have done to Heero, but of course he wasn't here and this whole shitty situation revolved around finding him, so he suppressed it vigorously.

Trowa picked up the notepad Duo had previously been scribbling on. "These are what you've tried?" His eyes studied the words, each with an angry line through their middle.

"Yes. Any other suggestions?" Wufei was becoming hasty again and Duo tried to give him a reassuring glance. Several hours ago they thought they could possibly be the only two actually left in existence. Now there were three of them left in existence and that meant one more mind that knew Heero Yuy. He and Trowa had had some special 'I saved you when you fucking self detonated' kind of bond, so hell, his guess as to a password was as good as theirs.

Trowa thought for a moment, his lips set in a straight line. "It's difficult. If there were more room for invalidity, for guessing, then I would feel a bit more confident in my choices. What do you think we'll find on it?" He looked up, mildly curious.

"Something someone wanted to kill him for," Duo answered, his eyes suddenly dark. He may still have resided with the thought that Heero wasn't actually dead, but then the possibility and those damn fucking photographs wouldn't leave his mind alone either.

There was an almost imperceptible look of understanding between the two men. Losing someone so close, it wasn't for the faint of heart. Duo wondered vaguely if Trowa knew that Quatre was missing or hiding out or whatever the fuck, but he didn't get the chance to ask.

"Do you trust me?" Trowa looked to both men for some sort of approval.

Wufei nodded and Duo shrugged. "I trust you just about as far as I could throw you, Tro. Which is pretty fucking far, look how damn skinny you are!"

Trowa took the words as approval enough. He leaned forward from his perch on the couch towards the computer, resting his willowy fingers atop the keyboard. The cursor was still blinking, still fucking taunting all three of them now.

He typed seven letters into the box, hit enter. There was a moment where nothing happened and then all at once a screen popped into view, holding many words in tiny, but very clear print.

Duo swallowed hard. The man had typed: _Maxwell_.

* * *

Several minutes later the braided man was pacing furiously across the hotel room. His muscles were tense as the other two men studied the lists found on the mysterious flash drive.

Those damn flash drives, they were somehow causing him more and more problems rather than making things easier like they should have. Lists and lists of names, no fucking way to decipher the meaning; zip, zilch, nada. Not to mention the new pit forming in Duo's stomach regarding Heero and his incessant need to cause emotional distress even when he was supposed to be dead as a damn doornail.

"Anything?" His words were terse as he stalked over towards Trowa and Wufei. Both men looked up with blank stares that bored into his impatient features. He got the hint pretty quickly. Still nothing. Don't keep asking every two fucking minutes.

So instead of interrupting the great and almighty minds at work, Duo studied the lists of names from behind the couch. The screen reflected off of his indigo eyes as he read each name quickly. None sounded familiar, and yet somehow they all began to sound the same. He squinted; every single name typed onto the computer screen shared the same first and last initials: M.R.

Mason Radcliff, Michael Ramirez, Marshall Rettig, Mischa Rietveld, Max Russo, Miguel Robledo...the list was infinitely endless.

"The fuck?" could be heard from under Duo's breath, but still neither of the other men bothered to respond to him.

Initials. Shit. Someone Heero was trying to find? A code name? Unscrambling some sort of fucked up signature? Just as the flashing names on the computer, the possibilities seemed boundless.

After several more hard moments of silence, Wufei finally spoke up. "Any of these names look familiar to you, Maxwell?" He asked the question without bothering to turn around and face who was being questioned.

Duo shook his head. "Nope. None." His words were slow to leave his mouth as his eyes were still skimming the seemingly ceaseless list. "Why?"

He watched as Wufei shot Trowa a look. What kind of look he was unsure, but it was damn shifty and he didn't like it. Trowa faced him with green eyes. "Could they be a message?"

"A message?"

"Heero seemed to address this to you."

Brows furrowing, Duo shook his head more fervently this time, holding up his hands in front of his chest. "Oh no. I was just his password. Don't go getting all 'find the deeper meaning here' and shit."

"It's a possibility. You have to admit that, Maxwell." Wufei still didn't look up from the computer screen, a clear tension building in his shoulders that seemed uncharacteristic. Duo had half a mind to make an immature and mocking face behind the man's head, but didn't because shit, maybe he was finally maturing. Imagine that.

"Possibility don't make it true. Right now I know just as little as you guys do," Duo replied with a raise of his eyebrows. "Okay?"

Neither actually signified their understanding with the preferred "okay" back, but Duo knew they were dropping the theory shit, at least for the moment.

"It would be easier if we just found Heero and asked for answers directly." Duo stared in surprise as the words came out of the thin line Trowa called a mouth. It made his skin crawl that he couldn't tell when the man was being serious, dryly sarcastic, or fucking joking. Trowa noticed the bemused look and flicked his fingers towards the autopsy still lying sickeningly open on the coffee table. "Don't tell me you really think Heero Yuy is dead." He stared at Duo waiting intently for a reply. Wufei also stared, but at Trowa and in a way that did not hide his clear irritation.

Licking his lips, Duo's eyes shot to the autopsy and back to bottle green. "Well fuck. There's a body lying on that damn table. But that ain't him, Tro. Just like I told 'Fei earlier." He saved a particularly devious smirk for the Chinese man. That little vein pulsed into view.

Wufei said nothing, realizing that even though Preventer had ID'd the body, he supposed he had come looking for Duo Maxwell for a reason. Trowa nodded his head once. "I watched Heero come back from the dead a long time ago. I don't see why he can't do it again now."

"So now what?" Wufei was becoming impatient Mr. Preventer Man again.

Duo shrugged. "Anyone just tried calling him lately?"

Both men gave him a baffled look. But hell, it was so stupid it might just actually work, right? Without receiving a verbal response, which was becoming the fucking routine around here he guessed, Duo grabbed for Wufei's cell phone lying on the couch arm next to him. He expected an objection, but to his slightly saddened surprise Wufei still said nothing.

Duo slid his thumb against the front screen to unlock it and then with deft fingers he found Heero Yuy's contact. There was a moment when he felt he aught to be startled that Wufei had all of their numbers, sans Duo's nonexistent one, programmed into his cell phone, but then he remembered he was a fucking Preventer keeping tabs on everyone.

The phone rang. And rang, rang, rang, but no fucking answer. It didn't astound him, but still he was highly disappointed. Would have been damn fun for Heero to pick up just so he could rub it in the other two's faces.

And then, after he pulled the phone from his ear, he thought about how scary it would have been for Heero to pick up. Shit terrifying, and yet...

Duo dialed again, his comrades having gone back to analyzing the mind boggling list of names after his great defeat the first time. The phone rang. And rang, rang, rang-

"Chang?" The voice was low, deep, resonant velvet. Duo's breath caught in his throat. He hadn't heard that voice in over three years and yet it still had that comforting effect on him. His muscles slacked for a fraction of a second before the panic of the situation set in. What the hell was he supposed to say to a fucking dead man?

"Heero?" His own words shook as they made their way through to the other line. He could hear noise, like the other man had quickened his breaths. There was a pause, a hesitance and both Trowa and Wufei were staring back at him wide eyed now. But then the line clicked into sharp silence.

* * *

Two time zones away in Moscow, Russia it was two hours later and a very furious dark haired man was awakened by the sound of his cell phone ringing, not once but twice, at this ungodly hour. For him this was rare and quite irritating.

On the fourth ring of the second phone call he answered, staring at the screen in slight disbelief before doing so. Never had Wufei Chang tried to contact him at such an odd time and especially not when he was as deeply undercover as he was now. Being a consultant for Relena Darlain's security staff was not an easy job, especially when her life was in jeopardy. But sleep would have to wait; if his Preventer comrade was contacting him, risking life and limb at waking the often temperamental man, then it must have been pretty damn important.

He hadn't heard from Chang in several months now so his voice must have held a curious undertone when he'd answered, still half asleep. There was no answer at first and he thought about hanging up thinking maybe the call had been a mistake. What made him second guess his tired theory was that this had been the _second_ call placed that morning; there was no mistaking _that_.

And then a voice that did not belong to the Chinese man he pictured in his mind crept through the phone and into his mind. _Shit_.

He was going to hang up. He had to hang up. No one was supposed to know where he was or what he was doing. Not Chang, not Une, and especially not Duo Maxwell.

If it had been Chang, like he'd imagined it should have been considering the call was from his line, he would have feigned an excuse and told him he was currently unavailable. It would have worked, it always worked.

But then he felt like the air was being pushed from his lungs. He hadn't felt this vulnerable and helpless in a long time. And it seemed an even longer time ago that he had heard that voice. That infuriating yet soothing and utterly irresistible voice.

He thought for a moment of the photographs he had received several weeks ago. The root of his work, of his sudden upheaval, of his lists, of his own safety, of Duo's safety. So many words began to manifest on his tongue.

And then, he hung up.

* * *

Duo desperately needed sleep after the day he'd had, so of course his mind kept his body restlessly tossing all night long. Fucking photographs, fucking autopsy, fucking Preventers, fucking password, fucking Heero.

As the sun began to rise over the horizon and light started to filter into the double room he and Trowa were sharing in the Preventer funded suite, the man rubbed his eyes, stretching his tight and tired muscles over his head. There was a movement from the other side of the room and Duo turned on his side to face an already awake Trowa tucking sheets under his mattress and smoothing the top with agile hands.

"You know, there's a maid service for that," Duo said to him, still slightly groggy from his uneasy night.

Trowa shrugged. "Force of habit."

Duo snorted out a laugh at the slightly eccentric man. Trowa didn't have a shirt on and when he turned, the braided man could see deep scars winding across his back, raised and a slightly lighter color than the rest of his skin. They reached all way to the top of his neck and down to his lower back in an uneven pattern. Looked fuckin' painful, at the time of injury at least.

He watched as Trowa finished making the bed up, probably doing a damn better job at it than any maid could anyways, and then grabbed a change of clothes, shutting the connecting bathroom door behind him, the sound of the shower turning on several seconds later.

The night before, the three men had sat in utter silence shadowed with doubt and denial for at least an hour after the inconceivable phone conversation, or rather lack of conversation. This whole time Duo had vehemently believed that Heero was alive and kicking, but somehow hearing him on the phone had almost made him realize how crazy it must have been to actually call a presumed dead man. They had all been thinking the same thing when they'd attempted to drift to sleep: how can someone be on an autopsy table, fingerprint ID'd, and then answer his cellphone at the same fucking time? It gave them damn chills just to think about it.

Sighing, Duo decided that if he was awake he may as well commit to the whole shebang, so he pulled himself out from the sheets and padded out of the room, clad in dark plaid boxers and an old, threadbare t-shirt, towards the suite's living room.

"Fuckin, Heero," he muttered under his breath, rubbing the back of his head as a splitting pain began to run through the center of his brain. For a while he thought that maybe he had dreamt the voice, the sultry all too memorable voice, but shit, then he remembered that the only dreams he had nowadays were fucking nightmares.

It amazed him that still Wufei seemed to have an answer that contradicted everything he had thought, and now definitely knew, to be true. He had fucking talked to Heero, how could that damn Preventer pretend like he was still lying in a morgue somewhere? But still, he knew there was some sort of underlying part of the Chinese man that had to believe it. Hell, like Trowa said, he'd come back from the dead before.

Of course, Duo thought, there could be ulterior motives behind Wufei's excessive belief in Heero's death. But it would have been a stretch, even considering he and the Preventer did have somewhat of a history. Shit, but that wasn't something he wanted to think about now; it had been years, surely there was nothing left to be discussed and certainly Heero's existence, dead or alive, wouldn't bring up those fucking impulses again.

There was a small coffee pot sitting atop a thin table against the wall several feet from the front door. Drawn to the thought of caffeine Duo made a beeline for the appliance, popping in a pod that would make a single cup of coffee. As the water brewed into a steaming cup of aromatic, liquid crack, he walked towards the couch in hopes of finding a news channel on the large flatscreen hanging on the wall, but he stumbled over an object on the floor beneath his feet.

Shit. It was deja vu, nauseating familiarity, his fucking seedy hotel room all over again. Duo's eyes slowly fell down to the sickening manila envelope, his bare toes still standing on it's corner. Suddenly he couldn't stop his hands from shaking. Damn fucking nerves, why was this happening to him?

He picked up the envelope, and now less tentative than before, tore it open. He'd stupidly expected it to hold images of himself and Heero leaning on each other, kissing, or even fucking. But it damn well didn't matter because that's not what his eyes fell on.

The photograph captured the moment perfectly and if it had been him with Heero it might have made his heart skip a beat with happiness. But it was not him. No it sure fucking wasn't, but it still made his heart skip a beat. Holy fucking shit.

Trowa had his arm under Heero's shoulder, holding him close, too close. Their faces were closer than he'd ever seen them, a flushed look on Heero's features, his eyes half shut in weakness that made Duo's fists clench. The image was zoomed in, grainy and shadowed, but hell, it didn't matter. He knew, he fucking knew. He'd been in that same position many times before. All too fucking familiar.

A guttural growl left his mouth and he couldn't stop the impulse to run into that damn little hotel bathroom and drag that stupid fucking bastard out by his stupid fucking hair so he could beat him into a bloody pulp. Of course he fucking sided with Duo on the validity of Heero's death. _That motherfucking-_

A sharp wrap on the door interrupted the thoughts that seemed to be suddenly bursting into flames in his mind causing figurative smoke and steam to blow from his ears. For a moment the murderous thoughts towards Trowa became second in his mind only to the knock on the door. Not even bothering to look through the peephole, which was probably not the best idea considering the uncertain and shitty circumstances he had been experiencing lately, Duo ripped open the door.

There was a moment after his eyes first made contact with the man standing on the other side of the threshold where he almost forgot how to breathe. His disposition started first at confused, then surprised, then fucking pissed off beyond belief.

And then, with power he did not know resided inside of him, Duo pulled back his impulsive arm and thrust it forward into the fucking unsuspecting face of Heero Yuy.


	5. Superstition Ain't The Way

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, and mild adult themes.

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 5: Superstition Ain't The Way**

_Superstition - Stevie Wonder_

Being that Heero hadn't seen the punch coming it was fairly impressive that his reflexes were still just a sharp as when Duo had last seen him. Or at least the last time he had seen him alive. The man dodged the fist flying at his face with mere centimeters to spare and within a split second they were locked in combat that neither of them could have predicted. But shit, what would anyone else expect from the two stubborn and impossibly impulsive men?

Heero swept a foot in an arch out towards the braided man's ankles, knocking him swiftly to the floor and pouncing, but Duo was ready, bringing his feet up to hit his attacker hard in the solar plexus sending him backwards into the wall next to the still open hotel room door. With a grunt Heero pushed off the wall and swung a fist towards Duo's head, the other barely able to evade it, a small clip on the jaw pushing him off a step. Everything was like fucking clockwork, both stepping in time to each other's movements.

"Throwing punches already?" Heero grunted out as he grabbed ahold of Duo's wrist and spun around. He pulled hard forcing Duo's arm onto his shoulder, shifting all of his strength in order to fling the man over and onto his back with a thud.

"Seems appropriate, don't it?" Duo gasped out, staring up at Heero's dark blue eyes in slight shock, the wind having been knocked from his body on impact.

From his upside down view Heero glared into indigo and then in one swift motion Duo had kicked his feet up and heaved his body back into a standing position causing Heero to back up slightly.

"Out of all your options, this is how you're choosing to greet me?" Heero bit out. Both men were now circling one another, neither ready to surrender, neither truly understanding the meaning for the fight, but both damn well sure they were going to win. Like a fucking lion stalking its prey.

"Was that fuckin' sarcasm, Yuy? Gotten a sense of humor in your old age?" Duo bit out, a sparkle of amusement in his eyes. Shit it had been too long since their last bantering conversation; Heero was very much _alive_ and this was fucking glorious.

The image of the autopsy and the cold metal table Heero's lifeless body had been laying on filtered out of Duo's mind replaced with memories of times he'd tried to forget about with alcohol and bad decisions. Fuck, suddenly everything seemed to be just as it was before he'd abandoned that damn hospital on X-18999 and never looked back. What the hell was karma playing at now?

His eyes flicked to the floor. That damn fucking photograph of Heero and Trowa laid between them, face down now, but Duo could picture it in his mind, searing a hole in his brain. What a fucking inopportune time for the man to decide to rise from the dead.

Still standing his ground, Heero nearly laughed at his words, but didn't because, shit, why waste the energy? He stared at Duo and the braided man could feel his steely eyes roving the top of his head, specifically the shaven right side covered in chestnut fuzz and scar tissue.

"What happened to you?"

"Oh, Heero you noticed my new look?" Duo crooned, his words dripping sardonic cynicism. His fists still clenched. Now really wasn't the time for sharing fucking sob stories.

There was a moment where Heero considered finally ending this incessantly idiotic display when a powerful hand grabbed the back of his neck thrusting his body backwards into the wall. Within a second the forearm belonging to said powerful hand found a strangling place against his throat, effectively pinning him. Wufei glared at the imprisoned man before him, his other hand hovering just above the gun tucked into the back waistband of his Preventer uniform, but from Duo's perspective of the situation, Heero wasn't about to attempt escape.

Wufei narrowed his eyes and when he spoke his tone was colder than ever. "You and I are the same..."

Without missing a beat Heero finished the sentence in a rough voice due to the pressure on his wind pipe. "We are only able to acknowledge our existence on the battlefield."

Almost immediately Wufei released his hold on the other man, Heero taking a stumbling step forward, catching himself.

"What the fuck was that?" Duo blurted out, staring at the two before him with incredulous eyes. Shit, why did everyone around here have to act so fucking mysterious all the time? He shook his head, placing hands on his hips waiting for a response.

Wufei gave him a bland look. "I've got an autopsy report that say's he's dead," he explained in a matter of fact way, pointing a hand towards the brunette man. "That was an old conversation only the _real_ Heero Yuy would have memory of."

Duo stared at him with sharp eyes, crossing his arms. Damn Wufei always had a fucking good answer for everything. "Now will you believe me and stop giving me shit, 'Fei?"

Wufei, clearly begrudgingly, nodded, but before he could say anything more, Heero stepped forward with a quirked eyebrow. "What autopsy report?"

Duo turned, regaining some of his composure since their scuffle, though the newest photograph still haunted his mind. "Heero, fuck, hate to break it to you but you're supposed to be dead," he said with a shrug. "According to Preventer that is."

Heero's stony face did not change emotion. "What?"

"Weren't you paying attention to what I just said, Heero!?" Duo's arms waved in the air and then flopped to his side, sighing roughly. Wufei decided to take a different approach, walked over to the coffee table, picked up the autopsy report and handed it to Heero without a word.

They watched as shadowy blue eyes studied the image of himself, which must have been fucking spooky to look at, lying cold and dead in a Preventer morgue. "Fingerprints?" he muttered under his breath. Wufei unconsciously nodded having read the report enough times to practically memorize it, though Heero never looked up from the pages in his hands.

"Am I missing all the new excitement?" Still Heero did not look up, but Duo jumped at the soft words. Trowa stood in the doorway to the shared double room, his hair still damp from the shower, the wet strands hanging over one green eye as he stared at them. An impulsive growl formed in the back of Duo's throat as his vision once again found the turned over image on the floor.

Trowa, having noticed the nearly imperceptible movement, took several quick strides forward and reached the photograph before Duo could, pulling it up and away from the other man's fingers with interest.

"Another photograph?"

"Get a good look, Tro, because it's gonna be the last thing you fuckin' see!"

There was a moment when Duo's fist was brought back and Trowa's vision looked up from the image he held in order to view the jealous contempt in the other man's eyes before Heero was yet again pouncing on the braided man, grabbing his wrist and twisting it painfully behind his back.

"Don't you ever learn?" he hissed through clenched teeth.

Duo struggled like a child as the man's other arm wrapped around his midsection. "Fuck, Heero, let me go you stupid, bionic son of a bitch!"

Trowa took a slow step backwards from the two. He looked at the picture one more time and the corners of his lips pulled upward which only caused Duo to jump forward harder and pull against Heero's unrelenting grip. Trowa's smirk faded instantly.

"Duo, this is a set up," Trowa said, gesturing towards the image.

"A set up?"

There was a nod. "All of these photographs we have been sent. Someone is trying to get a rise out of us, scare us, get us back together, whatever. But I just haven't been able to quite figure out why."

Duo slackened and felt Heero release him. He rubbed at his wrist, shooting his previous captor an icy glare. "You never mentioned that you've been getting these fucked up pictures too. But what the hell am I supposed to think when I see that?" he shouted, pointing to the intimate image still in Trowa's possession.

Heero picked up his autopsy and started examining it again, almost uncomfortably. Trowa shrugged, staring down at the photograph. "This was probably taken a long time ago. It looks like Heero is still injured from his self-destruction, you can see the bandages if you look closely. Someone cropped it knowing how to play to your weakness, Duo."

A fierce blush assaulted Duo's cheeks. He licked his lips and attempted to immediately change the subject. Shit, he felt silly about the jealousy thing and Trowa had a point about these damn fishy photographs, but mainly he didn't like that the man had referred to Heero as one of his weaknesses. All he fucking needed right now was _that_ awkward conversation.

Duo watched as Heero's eyes narrowed, staring down at the mirrored version of his dead self. Fuckin' creepy shit. "Want to explain to us your human body double there, Heero?"

His dark eyes flicked up, the irritation residing in their depths quickly replaced with uncommon confusion. "Another set up?" He shrugged. Usually Heero always had a good fucking answer like Wufei, but this time he seemed completely at a loss. Something was off, like he was holding something back.

Heero's vision roamed the three faces staring at his surprising mortality, then moved about the room until it landed on the laptop sitting on the coffee table. The little white flash drive was still stuck into its port and Duo saw Wufei's fists clench. Shit, not good. You don't break into Heero Yuy's shit.

Walking to the couch without hesitation, Heero sat down and threw open the laptop, being greeted by an all too familiar list of names. His teeth clenched and shoulders tensed. Shit, really not good.

Heero didn't turn around. "Where did you get this?" His words were sharp. Shit, really fucking not good.

Duo scratched the back of his head nervously, but Wufei spoke before the braided man could dig himself into a grave that was probably inevitable, but he was going to stave it off as long as he could, for all their sake's. "Wouldn't you rather it in our hands than in the hands of whoever broke into 'Duo Maxwell's' safe deposit box?"

Heero's muscles visibly slackened. He seemed to be mulling something over in his mind as he continued to stare at the computer screen. "You've all received photographs then?"

"The only picture I've gotten was the one of your dead body," Wufei replied in a monotone.

"Apparently we've both gotten those fun little presents." Duo hooked a thumb in Trowa's direction and the other man nodded in agreement. "And Quatre too according to his sister."

Heero turned around to face them again. "Quatre?"

"Yeah, you remember him don't you 'Ro? Blond, too empathetic for his own good, Winner Corp CEO and all that shit." Duo asked with sarcasm sparking off his tongue.

A steely look of daggers assaulted him, nearly knocking him backwards. Shit, those death-glares hadn't lost their potency. "I _mean_ we're all here for once," Heero gestured around the room. "Where is Quatre?"

A throat cleared and drew all attention to the tall man whose arms were folded over his chest and was leaning against the wall eyeing the group. Trowa's lips were set in a grim line. "I might have an idea of where to start."

* * *

The car ride was quiet save for the soft conversation taking place between driver and passenger. Heero and Wufei sat up front in the Preventer issued, black sedan while Trowa and Duo occupied the back. The braided man sat behind Wufei so that he could see the side of Heero's face as the man looked straight out the windshield, barley an expression on his solid features. Fuckin' inscrutable as ever.

Every once in a while he and Wufei murmured about something, but with the faint sound of a news channel piping through the radio, Duo could only make out bits and pieces. Damn unfortunate too, his curiosity about Heero ready to boil over.

He heard the words _undercover, Relena, security, photographs, Moscow, _and_ investigation_. Fuck, how was he supposed to be able to decipher any of that? Of course, there was a reason for their low tones, but hell why did Wufei get the sneak peek into Heero's life? Fuckin' Preventer.

The car travelled swiftly away from their hotel and towards a destination Trowa had vaguely revealed earlier. All four men, though all having different things on their minds, sat with pits in their stomachs.

Damn the circumstances that were suddenly bringing them together and damn whoever was causing those circumstances. Mysterious persons better beware, if they couldn't find Quatre there'd be more than just hell to pay.

* * *

A man with a name unknown watched the black sedan leaving the hotel with careful eyes. His own car, a Crown Vic of older, less sleek proportions sat a block away, his face hidden within the shadows of the dark upholstery and turned down visor. He pulled out a cell phone and dialed his employer.

"There are four of them now. You'll think I'm mad, but the fourth one bares an uncanny resemblance to Heero Yuy, though this man is very much alive." He paused for a moment, listening. "I'll keep a weather eye out. It's like that gathering of clans over here. It's working like a damn charm."

* * *

The neighborhood the black sedan entered was quiet and upscale, reminding Duo again of his current state and the fact that everyone seemed to be making it save for himself. The high rise condominium building they pulled up to was completely built of glass, the morning's sun shining off the windows, fiberglass patio's residing on every floor attached to each separate residence.

"How do you know about this place again, Tro?" Duo wondered, leaning forward to gaze out the front windshield, new anxiety building in the back of his mind.

Trowa, who was also looking out, but through his own window, shrugged. "Quatre and I have kept in touch."

Duo felt a sarcastically crude comment bubble in the back of his throat but decided, due to the current proceedings and the glares he was sure to receive from up front, forced the thought back down, laughing silently at himself in his own mind. How stupid could he have been to actually let himself get a rise out of that fucking photograph of Trowa and Heero? He knew better than most the sort of feelings shared between the tall man and petite blond. It wasn't hard to figure that unspoken shit out.

They pulled across the street from the large building, apparently holding a secret Winner safe-house, and all four men got out too look up at the exorbitantly, modern structure.

"What floor?" Wufei asked.

"Second."

Duo snorted. "And here I thought Quat would have the entire top floor all for himself."

Trowa gave him a sidelong glance. "It's a safe-house. A penthouse wouldn't be very inconspicuous."

Duo shrugged and Heero spoke up. "I'm assuming we can't just walk in the front door."

"No," Trowa said, shaking his head. He walked around to the trunk of the car, waited for Wufei to unlock it, and pulled out the bag the Preventer had packed before they left.

Duo eyed it uneasily, wondering what kind of bag of tricks the men had put together. Guns, knives, explosives who knows, Trowa seemed to favor them all. But to his surprise the man opened the bag to give them all a look inside at a simple grappling hook and rope.

Suddenly he had a fucking bad feeling about this.

* * *

Duo found himself standing lookout at the back of the large complex. Though it was midmorning, there was no one around, probably all at work he supposed. Shit, sometimes he thought maybe he should just find a damn boring desk job so that he didn't find himself in such nerve wracking and compromising situations. But hell, where was the fun in that?

Wufei paced briskly back and forth from one edge of the building to the other, his Preventer handgun positioned in it's holster. He looked around the corner every time he reached one, his eyes sharp. He seemed just as fucking nervous though would never voice it like Duo had already done several times.

Breaking and entering had never been something he felt wrong about doing, in fact he usually enjoyed it. But, breaking into Quatre Winner's safe house had somehow struck a nerve. Maybe it had to do with the fact that the man had been categorically missing and it was too fucking scary to think of what they might find in that glass encased condo.

"Being a Preventer I thought you wouldn't condone this kind of criminal activity," Duo joked in a hushed tone as Wufei stalked past him.

"We have probable cause to investigate," came a reply over the man's shoulder. He didn't fully answer the statement, rather fucking skirted around the accusation, but still Duo smirked. Once a pilot, always a pilot, Preventer or not.

Looking up, he watched as Trowa leaped from the rope hooked to the condo's patio with ease, grabbing the railing and pulling himself over landing without a sound. Fucking tightrope walker.

Heero followed closely behind, having been elected to be the second invader due to his agile abilities and skills at rewiring the intricate security system Trowa had explained to them earlier. Duo had grumbled, arguing that his skills were just as adept, but one piercing look from Heero and he'd shut up, saying he didn't feel like scaling a fucking glass building anyways.

As both men approached the condo's sliding glass door Duo could just make out their movements if he stood far enough away from the building, still keeping his wits about him as a good lookout always should, according to Mr. Preventer Man.

Trowa pulled a set of ceramic knuckles from the pocket of his dark pants that matched his dark grey shirt, completing his nondescript look. Duo had seen knuckles like that before, molded from some kind of mineral powder, pressurized, and bound with a type of epoxy adhesive. They were probably stronger than steel or brass and seemed to fit well with Trowa's unique and enigmatic personality.

The man slid them over his own knuckles and made a fist in order to tap them against the glass next to the door's handle. They would only have fifteen seconds to disarm the alarm once the condo was breached before anyone, probably Preventer or the Maganacs, could be notified. Trowa hit the glass again, slightly harder this time, and the glass broke into a spidery, circular shape from the impact. His dexterity was so great that he'd pulled back his hand before any glass came into contact with his real knuckles. He pushed away some extra shards of glass and then, taking the knuckles off and placing them back into his pocket, he slipped a thin arm inside and flicked the door's lock up.

Immediately, even on the ground below, the sound of a beeping alarm could be heard. Both men slipped into the condo and within seconds the noise was replaced with silence. Fuck, maybe Heero was the best man for the job. But never would Duo ever admit that to the smug son of a bitch's face.

Peeking around the corner, Wufei flicked his fingers and Duo followed him around to the front of the building. There was a familiar buzz and the door clicked open and the two men entered, finding the stairwell. They took the stairs two at a time, the fact that Wufei seemed to be unconsciously racing the braided man to the second floor made Duo grin roguishly. Always a fucking competition.

When they arrived at their desired destination, the door was cracked open. Each man looked left and right and then slipped into the condo, closing the door quietly behind them.

"Well that was fucking easy," Duo grunted, staring at his pristine surroundings. It was completely desolate, but there was a hellish odor floating about the open floor plan like rotting flesh that made his nose wrinkle and his stomach churn.

"Smell's like something died in here." He realized the gravity of his joking words the minute they left his unruly mouth. _Shit_. Trowa gave him a stare that sent chills through his spine. Not the time for fucking jokes when one of their own was MIA and another was supposed to be dead.

Heero made his way swiftly to the kitchen and found a large, double door refrigerator. Duo followed, hanging back slightly placing his hands on the granite countertop on the island between them. There was a sickening moment before the refrigerator doors were pulled open when he half expected to see dismembered body parts dripping in red stacked on the cold shelves.

The horrid aroma grew exponentially as the appliance was opened. Contrary to Duo's B-horror movie thoughts, the refrigerator merely held some rotting packages of chicken, beef, and graying vegetables that seemed untouched for a long while. Damn disgusting shit, but better than fucking body parts.

Heero placed the back of his hand over his nose. "Looks like someone was living here, recently enough to have bought groceries."

Trowa stepped forward as Heero closed the door in order to relieve them slightly of the odor. "It's as if when he last left he expected to return." He eyed a mug and spoon in the sink and a stale looking half-full pot of coffee on the counter.

"Iria was right. He did receive at least one photograph," Wufei announced from the living area. He held an empty, torn manila envelope in his hand, studying the block letter's of the name 'Winner' written in black ink. "Just like yours," he added, looking to Duo.

They spent the next half an hour sweeping the entire apartment, but coming up with jack fucking shit. Afterwards, all four stood in the living room, staring at the envelope harboring Quatre's last name. Duo turned to Wufei and spoke through clenched teeth. "Well this was a damn dead end."

Trowa, having overheard the braided man, shook his head and spoke in a slightly disheartened voice. "Not necessarily. We know that when he left it wasn't planned."

Shit, it was true, but it was ominous and not the greatest fucking thing to think about. Of course, there was still no evidence that he hadn't left at his own accord, but the severity of the situation was beginning to catch up with all of them. The possibilities were unpredictable.

"We better get going, neighbors might have seen us," Heero instructed to break the silence.

The group made their way back down the stairwell and out the front of the building trying to act as inconspicuous as possible. Trowa hoisted the bag containing the rope and grappling hook onto his shoulder. Wufei fished the car keys from his pocket. Heero cracked his knuckles almost anxiously. Duo stopped dead in his tracks behind the other three.

He looked back at the building, no onlookers, no suspicious eyes from atop balconies. But, as his own eyes drifted back towards the others, he saw a black Crown Victoria parked thirty yards away.

Fucking facing them. A figure behind the wheel, _watching_.


	6. You Got No Fear Of The Underdog

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, and mild adult themes.

**A/N:** Thank you for keeping up with this story thus far, it's been fun! As always reviews are so appreciated and help me know how this story is coming along and if people are liking it or not. So with that, enjoy this next installment.

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 6: You Got No Fear Of The Underdog**

_Underdog - Spoon_

"Slowly come to a stop, turn and face me." By now they had all made eye contact with the suspicious vehicle, though Duo was the one to voice the command, his words more serious than usual.

The three stopped and turned creating a loose circle as if they were making causal conversation. Duo made sure that Trowa's tall figure was between himself and the watching car. "That Crown Vic has been following us. I noticed it earlier when we left the hotel."

"Any ideas? Maybe our mysterious photographer?" Wufei turned to the other men. No one gave a response.

After a moment Duo gave a wicked smile. "Well then, I think it's time to find out."

* * *

Duo, having "offered" to drive in a demanding sort of way, found himself triumphantly sitting behind the sedan's wheel, Wufei next to him. "Don't hurt the car, Maxwell, or else Preventer will hurt you...and probably me too."

"Have a little faith in my skills, 'Fei."

"That's what I'm afraid of. Your '_skills_.'"

Duo ignored him and revved the engine, easing away from the curb, checking his mirrors to make sure no one was coming.

He spun the wheel while simultaneously slamming on the gas to perform a screeching U-turn. He hit the gas again and accelerated thirty yards, slammed on the brakes just in time for Trowa to jump skillfully from the back seat, several feet in front of the Crown Vic. The car lurched forward and then Duo hit the breaks again to pull up next to the driver's side door.

Trowa, ceramic knuckles on, smashed the passenger side window and chased the startled man out the other door and right into Duo's waiting arms. Held in place, Heero hit the man once in the stomach and once across the face, knocking him out easily, his body slumping to the ground. Duo fought a cringe, remembering how fucking powerful Heero's punches could be.

Wufei stared down at the blood seeping out of the man's broken nose. He rolled the body over with his foot so that the blood would pool on the pavement rather than in his throat and then he saw it. There was a Glock 23 in a shoulder holster and a pouch for a spare magazine on the man's belt. Wufei's fingers found his own holster, his eyes not leaving the unconscious body.

The gun, the holster, the pouch. They were all Preventer issue, identical to his own.

_ Fuck._

"Dammit," Wufei snarled. "We just took down a Preventer."

Duo's brows raised. "Shit, you sure 'Fei? Wouldn't you recognize him-"

"I don't know every fucking Preventer on the force, Maxwell!" His voice was louder than normal; an angry, almost paranoid, edge to it. Duo put his hands up in mock surrender.

"Why would a Preventer be tailing us?" Trowa asked.

"We'll figure that out later. Far from here," Heero said, his teeth clenched.

Wufei knelt down and pulled out the man's badge. "Sean Davis. According to this he's way out of his jurisdiction."

"Is that good or bad?" Duo wondered softly.

"I don't know yet."

Duo and Heero lifted the man's body into the backseat of his car, leaving him in a recovery position. It was the least they could fucking do for the Preventer. Though he should know better than to tail former Gundam pilots.

They turned back to their sedan, all four doors still wide open, the engine running. But lucky for Duo, not a scratch on it. Shit, very lucky for him since Wufei would have had a meltdown with even the tiniest bit of damage.

The men piled in, this time back to their original seats from that morning.

"Looks like we need a new car," Duo said from the back seat.

"I don't think Preventer will be too obliging," Wufei answered.

Heero turned slightly. "I have a vehicle or else we can take cabs in order to break the link."

Duo wondered if they'd be splitting the fare and the image of them attempting to do so in an orderly fashion made him smirk. "Probably should find a new place to call home, too," he added.

The three other men nodded silently. Fuck, how could this investigation get anymore complicated than it already was?

* * *

The four men sat in a restaurant on the outskirts of the Sanc Kingdom, an establishment picked this time by their Preventer comrade, rather than a greasy spoon that the braided man might have preferred.

Duo looked around at his upscale surroundings, down at his faded, white undershirt and ripped, dark jeans, and then back up at his three companions. This wasn't his fucking scene and he hoped that it wasn't Heero or Trowa's either, but they didn't seem to be paying any mind to it.

The prices were higher than he was used to and it wasn't that he couldn't afford it, he just hated to waste money on food he could get anywhere. He felt that inkling feeling again that Wufei was _definitely_ making it. Probably the other men too.

A waitress with a crystal water pitcher came and refilled their glasses. Duo leaned forward after she'd left. "Have you still been calling him?" He looked straight at Wufei.

The Chinese man nodded. "Yes. Straight to voicemail, but the phone is still on, obviously. So that's a good sign." He said it in a way that left the "good" part open for interpretation.

"Tell me again what Iria said to you?" Trowa asked.

Wufei gave Duo a nod to signify that it was his turn to tell the story. Duo sighed. "She said she didn't know where he was, though she didn't think he was missing. But, shit, now I think that sentiment is a little too hopeful for my liking." He received three powerful glares for that comment, but ignored them. "Rashid said Quatre was sent a photograph of himself on a recent business trip, which now we know is true since 'Fei found the envelope it came in. Who knows how many other pictures he might have been sent with it."

Trowa nodded once and folded his arms in pensive thought. It might not have been obvious to the others, but Duo saw the look of unease on his features. He'd had that same look not too long ago, before Heero showed up at their front door. Hell, in fact he still felt that unease regarding the recently proclaimed dead man, but for different reasons now.

While the others sat quietly, mulling over recent events, Wufei obviously still angry due to their mistaken identity of the now unconscious and bleeding Preventer, Duo gazed out the corner of his eye at Heero. He was still as formidable as ever, but there was a new softness about him that Duo couldn't quite put his finger on. And shit he'd love to, love to run his fingers all over that body like he had so many years ago, but he had an ill feeling that that was not on the agenda for him anymore.

Duo sighed and when their food came they ate, making quiet and pointless small talk as if they were just four friends catching up. Which they were in a way. Fuck, it was good to see everyone, but again the circumstances were becoming increasingly shitty.

When it came to an after meal treat, Duo waved the menu away but took coffee like the others. He watched as Wufei poured a packet of artificial sweetener into his, while the others sipped it black. "So when are we going to talk business?"

Heero looked up at the braided man. "Business?"

"Yeah, like how the fuck you're alive and what the meaning of all those names you've been keeping track of is?"

The other two men turned their attention from Duo to Heero, waiting, agreeing with the question but not vocalizing it.

The brunette man did not answer, only looked Duo straight in the eyes, almost challenging. Fuck, he wanted to take another swing at him, but Wufei would probably be pissed at him for 'making a public scene.'

Duo sneered. "Look Heero. I know you were investigating something. Fuck, those flash drives seem pretty damn important to you. Don't think I didn't hear your little convo with 'Fei in the car earlier." It was somewhat a bluffing statement, he wasn't lying, but he also hadn't heard the entire conversation, only enough to pique his curiosity in a fucking frustrating sort of way.

Heero's gaze never left his. Those steely eyes caused a damn shiver to run over the braided man's partially shaven head. He reached into the inside pocket of the brown, leather bomber jacket he wore over muscular shoulders and pulled out a white flash drive that was the identical twin to the other two now residing in Wufei's brief case.

Duo's eyes narrowed as he placed the device atop the table in the center of the four men. They all stared at it in silence for a moment.

"This holds the most up to date list. We've all received some sort of photographs, but mine had a calling card attached. The initials M.R., hence the list of names, all from within the ESUN, anyone with probable cause to be following us, documenting us for all these years." Heero spoke in a calculating way, keeping his voice low so only their ears could hear the words. "As for my apparent death, that's news to me. I've been undercover investigating a terrorist threat against the Vice Foreign Minister."

"But how? That body had your fingerprints," Duo said. "Did Doctor J fuckin' clone you during the war without telling you?" It was meant to be a joke, but no one was laughing. Tough fucking crowd.

"A Preventer agent was following us. One in the same?" Wufei directed the question at Heero, straying slightly away from Duo's topic of choice, but still within the realm of the issues at hand.

Heero shrugged. "Probably just a piece of the puzzle. Not M.R., that would be too simple. A pawn doing someone else's dirty work, maybe the messenger, but not the photographer if I had to guess."

"Can we get a background on the man?" Trowa wondered. "Sean Davis, was it?"

Wufei nodded. "I already sent the name to Une. If he's out of his jurisdiction she'd like to know."

"But we also left him fucking bleeding in the backseat of his car," Duo laughed out crudely. He took a sip of coffee and smiled at Heero's sharp glare.

"I'll take the fall if it comes to that," Heero said through grit teeth. "I'm the one who did the dirty work."

Duo raised his brows. "Technically we all did the dirty work."

"We also broke into Winner's safe-house," Wufei interjected with a frown. "If we're going to get technical."

"Have you told Une about Heero's liveliness?"

Wufei shot Duo a dark look. "Not yet." Maybe fucking Preventer protocol was starting to go out the window.

They sat in silence again. Something Duo was begrudgingly getting used to.

"I assume you've got leads then?" Trowa finally broke their contemplative thoughts as their coffee grew cold. He looked at Heero expectantly.

"If you could call them that."

Duo eyed the flash drive. "Who the fuck is trying to mess with ex-Gundam pilots? Do they have a damn death wish, or what?"

Heero grunted. "They have a motive, I'm sure."

"Yeah, but shit, a lot of people would have a reason to want us dead, even in this 'time of peace.'" Duo held his fingers up to form air quotes.

"Trying to provoke us with those photographs," Wufei said quietly, almost to himself as he thought, staring down at his coffee mug. "Could Yuy's death have been a set up?"

"Like bait?" Trowa responded. "To get us back together."

"Hn." Heero picked up the flash drive and put it back in his pocket. "Could be."

"Fuck," Duo whispered, realizing that it wasn't such a far fetched idea. In fact, if that was the intention it seemed to be working like a charm. Four of them were back together, just one more needed to make a complete set.

"If that's true," Duo raised his voice now to his companions. "Then it wouldn't make sense for Quatre to be...well you know." He didn't want to say 'dead' because saying it out loud might make it true. Shit, he didn't want that to be true.

Trowa gave him a sharp look, but instead of chastising him he seemed to agree with him, nodding his head silently. Hell, it truly did make sense the more and more Duo thought about it and he felt a small weight being lifted off of his shoulders. He wondered if, even though they had an apparent stalker with an apparent unknown motive, death might not be the objective. Yet at least.

Wufei picked up the tab and the others, save for Duo, argued against the unnecessary generosity. The Chinese man just smiled and flashed them his Preventer credit card. Fuckin' Preventer perks to the rescue yet again.

They walked outside towards a new car, this time dark blue. Duo wondered if it actually belonged to Heero or if he'd rented or stolen it. He had a hard time thinking about Heero fucking Yuy signing papers in a car dealership and making sure he had up to date insurance cards in the glove compartment.

All four men watched their surroundings carefully, more carefully than ever now with the possibility of more tails, especially Preventer ones. It made Wufei's stomach clench in uncertainty and Duo noticed the obvious agitation.

It never seemed clear with the man, but Duo hoped that his allegiance would be to the pilots over anyone else, like Preventer, if it came down to that.

Duo grabbed the backseat door handle, watching Trowa do the same thing across the car's roof, but then the tall man's eyes drifted forward and Duo followed his gaze. They both smiled.

Grabbing Wufei's elbow on the way, Duo stepped forward, following Trowa, Heero getting the hint and trailing behind with narrowed eyes. It only took a moment for the others to understand where Trowa was taking them.

"This is kind of biblical, people keep coming back to fucking life," Duo whispered in Wufei's ear with a grin.

"Biblical?" the man muttered, slightly amused by the irony. "Our assumptions were luckily off, that's all."

They reached a black town car a block from their own. In the backseat, through a barely see-through window sat a small figure; blond, blue eyes with a pair of horn-rimmed, circular reading glasses sitting atop his petite nose. He hadn't changed, still wearing the crisp, white shirts he was known for. It reminded Duo of his feelings of inadequacy; the bottom of the totem pole out of the, now five, pilots.

Quatre Raberba Winner rolled down his window as they approached, a knowing smile gracing his lips, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. He was obviously troubled, but shit, that didn't really surprise any of them, you know, all things considered.

"You should be more careful. We just beat up a guy who was tailing us. Left him bleeding and unconscious thanks to Heero's handy work." Duo gave him a toothy smile.

"Who tries to tail ex-pilots?" Quatre wondered with a cynical smirk, removing his reading glasses.

"My sentiments exactly."

Damn. Now that they were all back together, things were about to really get interesting.


	7. With Care From Someone

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, and mild adult themes.

**A/N:** I am blown away by your reviews! Thank you for them all, they are so appreciated. I am working on my capstone all day tomorrow so here is Chapter 7 a day early. Things are about to really heat up. Enjoy.

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 7: With Care From Someone**

_With Care From Someone - Dillard &amp; Clark_

Quatre sat in the middle of the backseat, having opted to leave the slightly conspicuous town car for their more discreet vehicle. He sent the driver away with a flick of his hand. Good ole Winner money.

It was a lucky thing there was only five of them, otherwise they'd be traveling separately. That would have been fucking inconvenient; of course piling into the backseat of Heero's compact car was also slightly inconvenient.

"Where do we go now?" Heero said from behind the wheel. His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror and stared at indigo ones for a moment too long. Duo looked away and out the window. A damn blush crept onto his cheeks.

Quatre answered the question. "How about the Sanc Grand Central. It's close and fairly discreet compared to some other hotel options."

"And expensive," Duo muttered, his chin in his hand, still looking out the window, the blush finally lifting.

Quatre eyed him with a sidelong smirk. Wufei turned slightly in the front seat to face the blond. "Maxwell's broke."

"I am not," Duo bit out, glaring at the Chinese man, trying to hold back the urge to stick his tongue out in defiant immaturity.

"I found him in a hotel room barely suitable for hookers." It was probably the most amusing thing Wufei had ever fucking said, but since it was directed at him, Duo couldn't laugh. He only grit his teeth and sneered in the man's direction.

"I haven't exactly been working lately. So sue me, Chang."

"Lately?" Now it was Heero's turn to chide the braided man. "You've never worked, not even during the war." There was a barely imperceptible hint of humor in his rude words. His eyes flashed in the rearview mirror again.

Duo crossed his arms and frowned. Trowa let out a soft chuckle from his seat next to the other back window.

"He's become quite sensitive about money," Wufei said, turning around to face forward in his seat again.

Quatre stifled a laugh. "Oh, Duo." His words were concerned and sympathetic.

"You guys are assholes," Duo grumbled, his brows furrowing deeply.

"They're only joking," Quatre said quietly from next to him, a small smile on his face.

Duo grunted. "At a time like this? It's just in poor taste."

This got a rouse from everyone in the car and soon even Duo found himself chuckling at the recent banter. It seemed that having everyone together, and _alive_, had lightened the moods within the five men. Hell, everything seemed to fall back into place easier than one would think, like nothing had changed over the past three years.

But the ex-pilots knew better than to think everything would be easy now that they were together, in fact they knew, deep down, that the biggest of their troubles were just beginning.

* * *

When they arrived at the hotel, Quatre putting down his personal credit card this time, the men found themselves gathered in one of the second floor suite's bedrooms. Duo sprawled on the bed he had apparently claimed, his ankles crossed, arms behind his head, seemingly relaxed though his muscles were still tense. Heero sat in an armchair in the corner, his eyes glued to his computer screen. Trowa and Quatre occupied the other bed, sitting side by side near the corner, but not so close as to suggest anything, the tall man leaning his forearms against his knees while the other stretched his arms back on his palms. Wufei chose to stand, arms crossed, leaning against the wall by the doorway. Everything was just so damn typical of the young men.

They hadn't all been in the same room together since the war. The picture of the five of them, just young teens, sitting aboard Peacemillion flashed into Duo's mind. Hell, in all honesty he never thought he'd see the day when they were back together again, it was kind of uncanny.

"So you were literally underground this whole time?" The words felt odd on Duo's tongue as he spoke, though Quatre's story was just odd to begin with.

The blond nodded. "Protective custody as Rashid liked to call it. Though, holding someone against their will doesn't seem like protective custody to me." He smiled wryly.

"It was for your own good," Trowa said. Fucking protective as always.

Quatre actually rolled his eyes. "If it was for my own good then you all should have been forced into protective custody as well. Now I know that I'm not the only one who received these curious photographs."

"Curious?" Duo scoffed. "Try 'fucked up', Quat."

"Yes." Quatre sighed with a resigned nod. "The photograph that roused Rashid most was of myself on a business trip in the colonies. Though it wasn't taken while I was representing Winner Corp, but...while I was visiting Trowa. Unofficially, off the clock, no one around, or so I thought. That's what put Rashid and the Maganacs over the edge. So, yes, Duo I agree that it was 'fucked up.'"

There was an air of tensity after his words and it had nothing to do with the fact that he had inadvertently cursed. Trowa actually looked flustered by the confession of their apparent visitation. Duo smirked for a moment, but realized it still wasn't time for snide remarks.

"So how'd you convince Rashid to let you out?" Wufei wondered, his eyes not leaving the ground.

Quatre pursed his lips, staring at the Preventer. It was obvious that even the amusing goading in the car hadn't quite roused him from the episode with Sean Davis earlier that day. They'd explained everything to him in detail on the way to the hotel. "Actually, Wufei, your messages played a big role. I'm glad you were so..._persistent_."

Wufei snorted. "No problem."

"I have a new number now though. That phone was feared to be compromised. Maganac paranoia I'm afraid." Quatre looked to Heero's unmoving form and then to Duo's seemingly lackadaisical position. He sighed, "Why is it that I see you all only when something terrible is taking place."

"Terrible is a strong word." It was the first time Heero had spoken since they'd checked in.

Duo laughed out loud. "You don't think that you being dropped out of thin air wasn't pretty fucking _terrible_, Heero?"

Heero looked up from his computer, his face completely serious. "That wasn't me. So no."

The braided man swallowed hard. Cold fucking Heero at it again.

"There's one thing I don't understand," Quatre said before Duo interrupted him with a cheeky grin.

"Just _one_ thing, Quat?"

The blond tried to ignore the insatiable man, but still amended his words. "Okay. One of many things I don't understand are the initials left for you, Heero. If our mysterious photographer, or messenger, or what have you, left their initials, obviously they want us to find them, eventually at least."

Duo unfurled his arms from behind his head and scooted into a seated criss-cross position. "Maybe not so obviously. Have you seen Heero's never ending list of possibilities?"

"Hn," Heero grunted in response. "_You_ haven't seen my most recent list, Maxwell."

About to retort, Duo found his words taken right out of his mouth as Trowa spoke up, as if reading his mind. "Care to share it with us, Heero?"

Heero shrugged as if it didn't seem like a priority to him. "Five names. All victims of the war and destruction by the Gundams. Regardless of our intention we have managed to alienate many citizens of the ESUN."

Quatre furrowed his brows in concern. "Yes, but in a time like this, with the Gundams gone, how could there still be so much unrest? Why would someone wait till now to send us these photographs?"

"Whoever it is, their mission was to get us back together." Heero's words hung in the room between the five men. It was damn terrifying how true the statement was. Shit, there they all were, back together in one room like cattle to slaughter. Maybe they'd played straight into their opponent's hands, but if someone was going to mess with one of them, they were inadvertently going to be messing with all of them, regardless of if they were physically together or not.

"I have an interface call with Une in about ten minutes," Wufei changed the subject, glancing at his watch.

"Looks like we'll be having a brief intermission, gentlemen," Duo quipped, nodding in the Chinese man's direction.

Wufei pushed off the wall and turned with a little solute specifically in the braided man's direction before heading down to the hotel's conference center. At this movement Quatre also stood, stretching his thin legs. "I'm in need of some fresh air. I've missed so many beautiful days being underground with the Maganacs."

Duo had to stifle a laugh at how quickly Trowa stood up next to the petite blond. "I'll go with you."

Quatre smiled wanly in his direction and before anymore words were spoken, the two men were gone. It had all happened so fast that Duo hadn't even realized that now he was alone in the room with Heero Yuy, the man still staring intently at his laptop, ignoring his braided companion.

_ Fuck_. Karma nudging at him for snickering at Trowa, no doubt.

Well now what was he supposed to do? He noted to himself to remember to scold Quatre for purposely leaving them to their own devices. He knew the blond well enough to know when he was being pushed. And being pushed into facing his past was not his idea of a relaxing afternoon. He sighed, resigning to the fact that likely none of them would be relaxing, at least not until their apparent stalker was figured out.

"So tell me about the five M.R.'s, Heero." It was Duo's attempt at breaking the ice. It wasn't a good fucking start.

Heero's eyes did not leave the flashing computer screen. "We should all be present. You know that, Maxwell."

Duo shook his head and grinned. "I'm curious. Humor me?"

"Have you ever heard the expression 'curiosity killed the cat?'"

The braided man had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep from laughing. Heero still wouldn't look at him and his tone was so damn monotone that the words sounded completely out of place coming from his mouth. He'd missed this banter with Heero almost as much as he had with Wufei.

Suddenly, feeling a lot braver than earlier when the man's eyes had been regarding him in the rearview mirror, Duo stood up and walked over towards the laptop sitting on Heero's knees. He pushed down the screen until it was closed and waited for a reaction.

The brunette stared up at him quizzically, never truly understanding his oddly childlike ways, sarcastic demeanor, and oftentimes paradoxical disposition. Heero was usually calculating, while Duo was usually spontaneous. Their interactions truly puzzled the man, and yet he couldn't help the tiny feeling of affection he felt towards him. They were grown now, weren't unruly hormones and youthful queries supposed to be beyond them? Besides, it had been three fucking long years...

"Are you really broke?" The abrupt and out of the blue question not only startled Duo, but Heero as well. It took a moment for the other party to respond as he seemed to mull over the odd chain of events silently in his mind.

"No. I get by." Duo could see that the other man wasn't quite convinced, but Heero didn't press the subject.

Instead, he got up from his chair and set the computer down where he had been sitting. He stood in front of Duo, their eyes almost in line, off my a mere inch. Their new proximity caused a pit to form in the braided man's stomach, but he just stared at Heero, waiting for his next move.

"Can I ask you a question?" It was another odd thing for him to say, but Duo nodded anyways.

"You always run away, Maxwell."

"That was a statement, not a question."

"It was supposed to be a question. I meant to ask why. But it is an accurate statement."

Duo, already quite tense, ground his teeth, taking a step back to put a bit more distance between them. Shit, yeah it was accurate, Heero didn't have to keep pointing it out though. "I can make statements too. Your fucking password is my name."

Heero looked down. Embarrassed maybe, or else just guilty. "Yes," was all he said.

Asking 'why' seemed like it would only lead to an argument or the end of their conversation so Duo decided to drop it. Hell, he knew why anyways, he didn't really need to ask.

"You know me, Heero," Duo said, taking several more steps backwards to flop onto the bed again. He had decided to address the man's earlier statement and simply get it the hell over with. He grinned, trying to relieve the tension of the situation with his charm that never seemed to quit. "I run and hide-"

"But you never tell a lie. So answer the damn question, Maxwell."

Duo sputtered, taken aback by Heero's abrupt and harsh words. He crossed his legs atop the bed, feeling his braid get pulled under him as his right leg landed on the chestnut rope's end. He licked his lips and stared up at the still standing man. "Heero, buddy, I mean...it was nothing _personal_..." he paused, unable to come up with the right words. Being sneaky and deceitful: his department. Speaking and divulging emotions: definitely fucking not his department.

"Why are we suddenly playing twenty-questions here?"

"It was one question, Duo."

Dammit. There he went and did it. He had to fucking use his first name and be logical all at the same time. Shit, things were getting real now.

Shrugging, Duo opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again, looking down at his criss-crossed legs. "Honestly, Heero, I can't tell you why I left because I don't even fucking know the reason myself." It was something he hated to admit, but it really was the truth. Maybe he was scared, maybe he felt inadequate or unworthy, maybe it was the uncertainty of fuckin' Shinigami, it could have been anything. Hell, he had yet to be able to decipher his own inner turmoil, let alone explain it to Heero.

And why did this man suddenly feel the need to prove his emotional stability? He was never one to speak openly about this sort of thing, even when casual sex was still involved. Shit, three years had managed to make things just that much more confusing.

Heero, possibly out of remorse or else because he simply didn't know how to answer, altered the conversation's course. "The photographs I received were..._interesting_."

"Yeah, mine too."

"They were of you, Duo. No one else. Just you."

Duo's eyes grew dark as he looked up. "Shit. That's fucked up."

Heero stared at him. No, dammit, he stared _straight_ _through_ _him_. Duo felt a chill run down his spine. A moment later Heero was walking out of the room, Duo's eyes trailing after him. When the braided man did not physically follow, Heero popped his head back in and glared. "Coming?"

Furrowing his brows, Duo hopped off the bed. Motherfucking Heero and his lack of people skills. Still, after all this time how could he be so brash and rude? They were having a fucking moment, weren't they? And now what? Duo followed on his heels into another bedroom, this one smaller with only one bed, housing Heero's few belongings.

Duo watched as he pulled an all too familiar manila envelope from his duffle bag, a bag that looked so similar to Duo's own he might have mistaken it. Comes with the territory he supposed, always on the fuckin' move.

"Here." Heero thrust the envelope, heavy with photographs just as Duo's had been, into the man's waiting hands.

With apprehensive fingers Duo peeled open the envelope and poured out a stack of pictures into his hand. His breathing quickened and his heart rate jumped as his eyes roamed through the plethora of images.

Many were from during the war. There was the one he had received, his body leaning on Heero. Others at a boarding school, in the library, on the basketball court. Another where their lips were close, but not touching, maybe coming in to each other or just after breaking an embrace; it was in an alleyway that Duo couldn't place. There was another of him, after the war sometime, with the Preventer version of Wufei in the background and it made his stomach clench.

And then there was one more, just of Duo, now in his present life, his scarred and shaved head, his five o'clock shadow, his squared out jaw line.

The feelings of nausea that Duo had experienced the night he had first received his personalized package of photographs began to resurface. "What the fuck?"

"It makes sense." Heero's words were soft and deep.

Duo looked up, squinting in confusion. "It does?"

"They were trying to get each of our attentions. They were personal about it. Wufei got the autopsy. Quatre and Trowa: their secret visitations. You got your..._friends_." He paused to purse his lips nervously; he knew 'friends' was the bare minimum of accuracy. Taking a deep breath he continued with the hardest realization he'd had to say so far. "Duo, I got..._you_-"

His stammering words were cut off as an explosion ripped through the air outside of their hotel.

Immediately both men ran into the living room towards the window they knew looked out over the hotel's parking lot. They arrived just in time to see a hot blast of fire flying from within the engine of their current vehicle. It was damn fucking lucky that no other cars were parked near the now burning frame, Heero having opted to pull into a spot far from anyone else out of pure habit.

They watched with wide eyes as the entire car became engulfed in flames from the explosion, wondering vaguely if it had been serendipitous, but knowing deep in their guts that it was far fucking from it.

But the most terrifying thing, even aside from the flames licking at every inch of the car's frame, were the dozens of large photographs scattered atop the burning car and trailing to the dark pavement surrounding it.

Duo couldn't stop his hands from trembling as his eyes found a particular picture, it's edges smoldering as embers attacked the photograph. It was an image of himself, his chest barren and glistening with sweat, another man's arms wrapped across his abs from behind. He didn't have to see the half hidden face to know who they belonged to and it _wasn't_ Heero Yuy.

The braided man barely made it to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him, before he was violently sick. Fucking deja vu.

One abhorrent thought ran through his mind, the words playing on repeat like a damn broken record player in Heero's low, velvet voice.

_ Duo, I got...you._


	8. I'll Be Damned If I Don't Wanna Kiss You

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, and mild adult themes.

**A/N:** Here's the next installment, it's a slight bit shorter than normal, but the end is well worth it, in my opinion. Please leave a review and let me know what you think thus far, if you're so inclined. Thank you as always! Enjoy.

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 8: I'll Be Damned If I Don't Wanna Kiss You**

_Shoulda Known - Atmosphere_

There was a time, somewhere in between his abandonment of Heero, uncharacteristically weak in a hospital bed, and when Preventer visits to his always circulating address became fairly regular, when he and Wufei had reconciled a relationship that had seemed somewhat hostile during the war.

Were they together? Not by any fucking means. It was purely casual and angry and passionate, but still just a fling. Nothing in comparison to Duo's former relationship with a different pilot.

To this day he still wasn't even sure that the Chinese man swung that way and maybe their physical relations had just been a way to let off steam, a hook up, a good fucking lay. And in the end it didn't really matter because as quickly and surprisingly as it had started, it had abruptly ended.

They hadn't spoken of it ever again, all water under the bridge, and all that shit..._until now._

The fire engine had come and gone, leaving a barren and soot covered frame of what once was Heero's car behind in the hotel parking lot. It was taped off with a few Preventers milling about, but Captain Chang had all but bit their heads off when they'd come asking too many questions. Duo figured he had yet to divulge to true gravity of the case he'd been recently entrusted with. Shit, Une probably still didn't even know Heero was alive.

Four men sat in the small living room of their hotel suite, two concerned but obliviously unaware, one staring emotionlessly at his computer screen as if it somehow comforted him, and the last chewing on a thumbnail nervously, mulling over just how to approach the situation, the photograph still burned into his memory. No pun intended.

Duo wondered how and why the fuck someone had so many compromising images of him. Did that realization make him a whore? Hell, at this point it didn't really make much of a difference. The emotion he felt most vividly was of uncomfortable humiliation, like his entire life was being watched through a magnifying glass he'd been unaware of all this time.

After a few more moments of thick silence the fifth man joined his companions, a stack of photographs in his hand. Wufei gave Duo a hard look when he entered the suite. The image of the braided man's bare chest was resting paralyzingly on top of the stack he carried. Of course it was, fuckin' Wufei had to stir the fuckin' pot like always.

The Preventer dropped the pile of photographs on the living room's coffee table, unceremoniously letting them sit there, almost as if to taunt the four men now staring pointedly down at them. Some were more intact than others, unluckily for Duo, the top image of his naked body was very much complete, aside from some charred edges.

"Time bomb planted in the engine," Wufei stated rather blandly, his eyes unable to totally leave the chiseled features of Duo's thin upper body in the photograph.

"A warning. Not intended to kill any of us." Heero finally lifted his eyes and spoke in a knowing way. All four other men nodded their heads in solemn understanding.

Shit, it made sense. They attacked a possible messenger or informant, Preventer or not. Someone was definitely fucking messing with them now, and with each passing second it seemed to be getting more and more personal. A sour taste formed on Duo's tongue.

Slowly, almost painfully slowly, Heero's fingers reached out and grabbed the pile's top photograph. He held it up and studied it and Duo felt his stomach clenching, but it was so empty that he barely even felt nauseous. He watched Heero's eyes, not a single emotion flashing across their blue surface. Fucking stoic son of a bitch.

Wufei stared for a moment as well, but spoke before the braided man could formulate any appropriate words. "_Obviously_ another ruse to pit us against each other." The word 'obviously' was used quite harshly and Duo wondered, almost wide eyed, why Wufei was lying for him.

He may never tell a lie, but hell, that didn't mean people he'd slept with couldn't.

Duo realized that Heero must have been feeling the same emotions he had felt when he'd been delivered the misleading photograph of Heero and Trowa together, though he was doing a much more efficient job of keeping them in check.

Heero pursed his lips, said nothing, nodded his head affirmatively once, and set the photograph down. The arms wrapped around Duo's torso were only connected to a shadowy face, but it wasn't hard to try and guess who it belonged to, especially considering the amount of guilt pouring out of Duo's quite readable indigo eyes. There was no fooling the Perfect Solider.

Both Quatre and Trowa's eyes lifted to meet Duo's, one pair filled with concern and the other with suspicion. He could feel the fucking dry heaves attacking his body again.

As if in some act of mercy, maybe because the tension was becoming unbearably thick, or else he felt some sort of odd remorse for his comrade, Trowa finally spoke, changing the subject. "Any news on our Preventer tail?" He directed the question towards Wufei, his eyes intense as if to say 'you owe me.'

"Sean Davis joined Preventer little over two months ago. He's just a rookie." And just like that it was back to business, Wufei's fucking Preventer protocol voice kicking into action.

"Would he have a grudge against any of us?" Quatre wondered, his voice soft due to the fact that he hadn't spoken once since re-entering the hotel suite.

Duo licked his lips nervously, and then decided to match Wufei's tone with one of his own much less formal 'back to business' voices. "Shit, anyone in the colonies, or Earth for that matter, probably has a grudge against us for one thing or another. Things got pretty fucking gray during the war; we weren't always the good guys."

"We were never the good guys or the bad guys, we were just fucking kids." Heero's voice was harsher than they expected, making Duo wonder if he was channeling anger that may have been welling up inside of him towards a more relevant enemy.

Wufei, ignoring the outburst, explained, "Davis had family in the colonies during the war, but there's no current record of them presently. Could be unaccounted for or-"

"Could be dead." Duo finished the thought. "Shit, there were so many faceless and unaccounted deaths during the war."

The Chinese man nodded with a sigh. "Things are still just as gray as they were during the war. Black and white isn't remotely possible, even nowadays."

"Still, it doesn't make sense. Sean Davis couldn't be the only one involved in this," Quatre said, his brows furrowing over clear aquamarine eyes. "He was a middle man, a hired hand for surveillance, not the master mind behind everything. I thought we already covered that?"

There was a grim silence before finally Heero spoke, low and serious. "He certainly wasn't alone in this, that much is clear. As for everything else-"

"Fuckin' clear as mud." Duo had apparently developed a nasty habit of finishing people's sentences. Though at this point, he mainly seemed to just be filling in the blank of what his comrades were thinking but wouldn't vocalize. Hell, he'd always been the verbose one hadn't he?

"So what of Preventer's involvement?" Trowa wondered, his eyes floating to Wufei.

The man shrugged. "Don't look at me. I just work for them." Duo had to choke back a laugh at the man's sardonic quip.

"Sean Davis is a Preventer and he's also following us. That doesn't mean those two things are related," Quatre suggested, though rather meagerly as he knew it was scraping the bottom of the bowl without the others telling him so. But no one else had any better ideas.

Wufei unfolded the stiff arms that were at his chest. "I'm going to take the list of subjects to the Sanc Preventer office, see if I can get some addresses. We have to start somewhere." He spoke about Heero's list of M.R. initials as though they were suspects waiting to be brutally interrogated.

Quatre's gaze wondered to Duo and gave him a small, but reassuring smile, before standing and facing the Preventer. "We'll go with you," he said, gesturing to Trowa.

Duo thought that Quatre was pretty damn sly in making themselves scarce so he and Heero would be alone, yet again. But at the same time the man did always seem to know what he was thinking, feeling, or needed. Fuckin' empath or some shit.

Wufei nodded, rather begrudgingly Duo noticed, and turned on his heel towards the double bedroom they'd been sharing. The braided man was instantly at his heels. "Can I talk to you?" His voice was anything but casual and calm like he wanted it to be.

He heard a characteristic grunt of disapproval come from Heero, but he chose to ignore it, following the other man into his bedroom. When they were alone and the door was closed, but not completely shut as to attract anymore unwanted assumptions, Wufei set him with a dark glare.

"What do you want now?" His tone was icy and it made Duo's stomach cringe yet again.

"C'mon 'Fei. I just want to talk about that picture-"

Wufei held up his palm. "There is nothing to talk about. I assured Heero of it's purpose in the way of mental and emotional warfare. That's what you want, isn't it?"

Duo bit his lower lip, trying hard to fight back any sarcastic or angry words that might float past his nearly nonexistent filter. He took a deep breath in through his nose and then let it out through his mouth with a huffed sigh. "Yes, but-"

"Look, Maxwell, I'm not going to keep covering for you. Eventually you're just going to have to face facts-"

Now Duo couldn't hold back the emotions that had been bottling up inside. "Facts? We were _never_ together. Not like me and Heero and you fucking know that, 'Fei. Don't make this into anything more than it was." He regretted the words immediately as they left his mouth, but being the fucking impulsive man he was there was nothing he could do about it.

Wufei stared at him, the faintest hint of pain in his dark eyes, but blinked once and it was gone. "Good. Then we have an understanding." He picked up his Preventer jacket from his bed and slung it across his shoulders. "If you'll excuse me." He pushed past Duo and walked out of the bedroom, leaving his braided companion in a state of utter speechlessness. Which, for Duo, was saying a fucking lot.

* * *

The tension in the air after the three men left the hotel suite was so heavy Duo could have sworn he could feel it closing in on him, strangling the breath from his lungs. Fucking emotions and shit, that was all he needed right now.

Duo sat on the couch and watched as Heero's eyes scanned the day's newspaper, his dark, blue eyes moving quickly across the page from left to right in such a rapid motion that it seemed almost improbable that the man was even actually reading the words. He sat in his chair with legs crossed in a lax position so unfamiliar, yet so ordinary that it was incredibly attractive. For some odd reason, in that moment, Duo wanted nothing more than to fling himself at Heero, lips first.

He sighed and placed his chin in the palm of his hand. Things were damn boring without the others there and without the possibility of fucking. Though he certainly didn't miss the awkward drama from earlier.

At the sound, Heero's gaze flicked upwards and his eyes met Duo's sharply. "Alright?"

Duo, not expecting the man to speak, licked his lips. "Fine. Bored as hell, but whatcha gonna do? More than half the team's gone, can't really do any work just the two of us." He was fucking babbling now and he knew it, but shit, somehow Heero was making him uncharacteristically nervous and unsure of himself. Hell, he hadn't felt these kinds of butterflies in years.

Heero eyed him warily, set down his newspaper, and uncrossed his legs. "We could finish our conversation from earlier."

Shit, Duo certainly didn't want to do that. Of course, he also didn't really want to chat about the photograph still staring up at them from the coffee table of he and the shadowy figure of Wufei. There was no fucking way for him to win this time around.

Anxiously Duo brought a hand up to swipe at the shaven part of his head and travel down to the back of his skull, his triceps stretching satisfyingly. "I don't know how much catching up we really need to do, Heero."

There were those eyes, those adorable fucking confused blue eyes. "Catching up? We've barely spoken, I don't think we can call any of what we've said to each other catching up."

Shit, why did Heero have to suddenly be so damn talkative? It was gonna give Duo a panic attack. He was used to talking _at_ Heero, usually about random shit mind you, not talking _with_ him.

The man didn't wait for a response. "Why did you leave?"

"Goddammit we've already been through this-"

"Fine then. Why did you leave and then start sleeping with Chang?"

The question was so forward and abrupt that Duo sputtered, his lower lip hanging slightly as he tried desperately to figure out how to send words from his brain to his mouth. "Heero," his eyes shot to the photograph between them. "It was fucking nothing. Like Wufei said, a ruse."

Heero stared hard, his eyes burning. _The fuck was going on?_ Duo was internally screaming at himself. Did Heero really care that much, even after all these years? Shit, Duo was supposed to be the one with all the clever answers and one liners, not the one trying to dig his way out of his own grave.

Still Heero said nothing. Duo had a bad fucking feeling about this.

As the other man stood and took the several steps it took to get from the chair to the couch, Duo's entire body tensed, wondering if his fist would go for the jaw or stomach first. He clenched his eyes tight, realizing he may as well get it over with, at least maybe Heero would be able to let some of his aggression out before the other three returned.

But the dreaded hit never came.

Instead a pair of familiarly sculpted lips brushed against his own, kissing lightly once, and then a bit more forcefully a second time before pulling back.

Duo's eyes flashed open and he gasped out the breath he had been holding in his lungs. An impulsive shiver ran through his entire body, a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time. "Fuck."

He stared into Heero's features and watched as the man's thick eyebrows shot up at his whispered word as if to say 'yeah, you wanna?'

Immediately Duo's hands flew to the collar of Heero's shirt and pulled him in for another kiss, this one much more passionate and prolonged. The heat of their mouths together, pulsing against one another, sparked another tremor, this time through both of their bodies.

Sure as fuck did he wanna.


	9. So I Run, Hide, & Tear Myself Up

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, and mild adult themes.

**A/N:** I really do appreciate reviews, but if you can be as specific as possible with praise or criticisms that would be best. I would really like to grow as a writer and so constructive criticism is the most beneficial form. Also, if the last chapter left you wanting more, I am going to apologize and say that I won't be writing smut or anything sexually explicit (not that I don't love those types of stories, because I do, it's just not my style of writing). Thank you for understanding. Onwards to Chapter 9!

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 9: So I Run, Hide, &amp; Tear Myself Up**

_Capricorn (A Brand New Name) - 30 Seconds To Mars_

They laid in bed afterward, quietly, the only sound being their breathing, simultaneous and relaxed like they'd just blown off steam that had been residing in both of them for the past three years. Hell, apparently they needed a good lay after all.

In the past they might have reveled in the bedroom company, held on to each other, talked, or just slept in the comfort of one another. But they were not touching, just laying there, no words, no emotions, no comfort. Like it was all fucking business and nothing else.

Duo pictured the telltale scar in the recess above Heero's hip and was at least thankful that the man he had 'made love to' was at least the real, living, breathing Heero Yuy. Shit, at least there was that.

And so, even with the warmth residing under his skin from the recent activities, a chill found its way across Duo's body. He had the undeniable urge to get up, walk out the door, and not look back. Hell, he was still so messed up about things with Heero and the man's naked body next to him certainly wasn't helping with the confused set of emotions running sharply down his spine.

"We should get dressed."

Duo turned to face Heero, his words ever fucking logical and blunt. He sat up on his elbow, glancing at the wide open doorway just past the man's dark blue eyes. He grinned, trying to let any humor of the situation override the uncertainty he felt. "Yeah, this might be fucking hard to explain, huh?"

Heero's eyes flicked upwards in a quick roll and then back towards the braided man, a feeling of near offense residing in their dark blue depths. "Not that hard."

Duo laughed uneasily. Heero was being so oddly open that it was turning him on yet again and he didn't know quite what to make of it. Though they still weren't touching, no contact offered at all. But the man was right, clothing did need to go back on soon considering their other companions had been gone for over an hour now and would surely be returning any minute. Begrudging as Duo was about that.

"I need a smoke anyways."

Heero watched as Duo pulled himself from under the slightly wrinkled top sheet and began to retrieve his clothes that were haphazardly scattered about the room. "You shouldn't do that."

Duo pulled on jeans that were probably a little too tight and then stuck arms through a fresh, black button down from his bag, forgoing the buttons and letting it hang open provocatively revealing his toned body. "Do what?"

Heero fixed him with a pointed look. "Smoke."

Duo pursed his lips. "That coming from you, 'Ro? You jump out of fucking buildings and self-destruct and shit. Don't tell me what I shouldn't be doing."

Laughing, Duo found his bag and pulled out a nearly full carton of cigarettes and a small, silver lighter. He didn't smoke to the point of bad habit, hell he'd been trying to quit actually, but sometimes he just damn well needed one.

"I can't tell you what to do, but I can suggest what not to do, Duo." Heero's words were quiet, as if he felt uncomfortable chastising his companion. Shit, Duo knew the man was all about treating his body like a fucking temple. That was pretty obvious, he was gorgeous after all, but still some habits die hard, even little ones like an occasional smoke.

Duo nodded towards Heero. "I know, I know. Don't worry, I only smoke when I've got a lot on my mind." He pointed a finger up to his temple. "And right now, there's a fucking lot." He smiled, though he knew the statement was heavy in the air, and turned to walk out onto the room's adjoining patio.

Sliding the glass door shut behind him, Duo let out the deep sigh he had been holding in. Dammit, what had just happened? How many hours had it been since he'd thought Heero was dead? And now they were fucking and his mind was a blur. This wasn't right, was it? And to do it in the room he and Wufei had been sharing...shit he _really_ didn't want to think about that.

He tapped the carton and pulled out a single cigarette, letting it rest between his lips while he put the box into his back pocket and flicked the lighter to conjure a flame. He took a few thoughtful puffs and let the cigarette burn between his fingers while he leaned on the railing with his forearms.

Could he and Heero really be slipping back into their old ways so quickly? Or was this something more than just adolescent hormones? The last time they'd done this they'd been teenagers. Hell, Duo may have still acted like a teenager, but even he knew better about these things now, at least he'd like to think he did.

Fuck. Things couldn't possibly get more complicated, could they?

As Duo gazed out across the parking lot of the hotel and across the street towards a cluster of shops and restaurants in a small strip mall, his eyes nearly deceived him. He mentally groaned at himself for thinking too soon; apparently things _could_ get more complicated.

Sitting in a Crown Vic parked fairly obviously across the street was an ordinary looking man with light, cropped hair, a garbage bag taped across his window, his face shaded slightly, but still recognizable with a splint across his nose. _Sean Davis._

"Shit," Duo grumbled, reaching down to stub out his half finished cigarette on the cement of the patio. He left the butt laying there, unconsciously hoping that it would provoke the Preventer he was sharing the room with. That man's body was a fucking temple too, it seemed.

He pushed open the glass door and watched for a moment as Heero pulled on the white, collared shirt he'd been wearing earlier tucked into slacks, the man choosing to redo his own buttons as opposed to Duo.

"You might be in trouble, Heero."

Heero looked up from his buttons, but his face was unreadable. "Why?"

"That Preventer's parked across the street."

"The same one?"

"The one and only. I think you fucking broke his nose."

"Did he see you?" Heero finished the last button.

Duo shook his head. "I don't think so. But obviously he knows we're here."

"What is he doing?"

Duo folded his arms and fit Heero with a serious look. Shit, _why_ did things have to be so complicated? "He's just sitting there. Like he's waiting for something."

* * *

When Wufei, Trowa, and Quatre returned they found their two other companions sitting on the couch, just where they'd left them. Though there was something different, less sexual tension, but more confusion now.

Wufei was the first to speak, staring pointedly at Duo's casually open shirt. "You're still here."

Duo screwed up his brows. "No I'm a fucking optical illusion," he deadpanned with immediate venom in his voice. "Why the hell wouldn't I be here?"

Wufei shrugged. "When we left it was just..._tense_."

"What? You think I was gonna run out because things got a little fucking more complicated? Geezus, have some faith 'Fei." He knew the man was doing it just to get a rise out of him, and hell he sure couldn't resist. He'd been fucking craving that running dialogue for a while now, hadn't he?

Heero's hand surprisingly found its way onto the braided man's knee in an attempt to calm him. Wufei stared at the touch for a moment too long before turning away.

"What did you find out?" Heero asked, choosing to address the question towards Quatre and Trowa.

Quatre handed him a manila folder filled with papers. "Addresses, history, occupations, family, the usual things," he answered evenly.

"Did you happen to see our little friend outside?" Duo asked, also choosing to ignore the Preventer now standing behind the couch, not in his direct line of sight.

Trowa nodded. "He was there when we left. Still there now in the same position."

"Yeah, I fucking noticed him when I was out...getting some fresh air." Duo decided to leave the part about smoking on the balcony out of his statement in order to avoid more chastising that would surely come in the form of an infamous Quatre Winner lecture.

"And what did Une have to say?" Heero wondered, his gaze finally finding its way back to Wufei.

The Chinese man stared at him hard for a moment before answering. "As far as I can tell the investigation is still open and she knows we're all back together now." He shrugged. "I don't know if she knows you're alive yet."

"Hn." Heero averted his eyes. "She'll find out eventually. Then what?"

"Then the investigation is closed."

"Not necessarily," Quatre spoke up. "When you were gathering data she asked me some peculiar questions regarding Winner Corp. Something about new research opportunities, but I told her I hadn't been informed of any new projects." His brows furrowed. "She seemed suspicious."

"It was as if she made it a point to talk with him confidentially," Trowa added from beside the petite man. He wore a thoughtful expression, wheels turning behind his green eyes.

Duo scratched the back of his head. "She never mentioned anything about those damn photographs or our new friend outside?" It was a question not directed at anyone in particular.

Wufei shook his head. "She doesn't believe they have a relevance in this particular case. And that we can't legally touch Davis without probable cause." His eyes flickered to Heero for a hard second.

Duo turned to face the man with a glare, his frustration with Preventer being immediately channeled towards Wufei in regards to his first statement. "Like hell they don't! They _are_ the fucking case, Heero isn't dead!"

Wufei just stared at him, expressionless. Duo clenched his teeth. Stupid, fucking Preventer.

Their odd stare down was cut off by Trowa's voice, his thoughtfulness turning into an air of possibility. "Think about it from Preventer's perspective. They find and ID the body of Heero Yuy. Or at least a body with his fingerprints. He's an ex-Gundam pilot and does freelance work for the Vice Foreign Minister, making him quite a target," he paused, as if to let this new information sink in. "But they know that all of his old allies are still around the ESUN somewhere. It's not the first time we would have attempted killing one of our own."

"Preventer suspects us?" Duo wondered incredulously.

"No," Trowa shook his head. "I think they dismiss us as suspects, but when they get nowhere after that they decide to use us to their advantage. One of us is a Preventer after all and even if we don't believe so, they have to have been tracking us all these years." At this Duo snorted with a nod, his eyes flicking to Wufei who stood with his arms stiff across his chest, listening.

Trowa went on. "They've got a freelance investigative team sitting right under their nose. So they put Wufei on the case, they send us those pictures, they round us up because they know how to get at each one of us. After we are back together they know we're going to look for answers, one of our own is dead after all. Preventer knows they can watch us and piggy-back on whatever we do or find."

"That's ridiculous," Wufei bit out, still wearing his Preventer issue jacket.

Duo hated to admit it but, shit he was with Wufei on this one. He narrowed his eyes. "All that just to find one guy's fucking murderer?" Heero shot him a look that made Duo smirk and hold back a few chuckles. "No offense, Yuy."

Shrugging, Trowa nodded. "It does seem like a long shot, but we don't have much else to go on, other than those names." He gestured towards the envelope in Heero's hands. "We have a Preventer tail, it just seemed logical to think they were involved more than we think."

Hell, Trowa always was the calculating, logical thinker, wasn't he? Duo clenched his fists. It did sort of make sense, it was plausible, but it did seem like a fucking lot of work for Preventer just for one measly case of murder that wasn't even murder. Of course, _they_ didn't know that.

Quatre sighed. "Maybe it's not just about that murder. Une seemed very invested in finding out about Winner Corp research. Though I really couldn't give her any answers, she seemed somewhat satisfied with us just having the conversation."

"Trowa does make some sense," Heero said, nodding in the tall man's direction. "I'm still here and not being charged with assault because Preventer figures a broken nose is the price of doing business."

Duo stared at him with wide eyes. Hell, it made complete sense when Heero put it that way. A smile found its way onto his lips as he stared at the man with appreciation for his logical input. He thought of how Preventer had tried to 'hire him on' as if they 'desperately needed him' and wondered if maybe the organization was playing at something bigger than they'd originally thought. "Only one way to find out. Take a walk and talk to Davis," Duo said, turning to the others.

Wufei nodded curtly. "Quatre should go, he wasn't with us when we attacked him so the guy probably won't shoot him."

His humor was dry and Duo appreciated it, as he always did, nearly having forgotten their bitter words earlier that day. "I'll go with you, Quat. Just in case you need some back up."

"I can't say the same for you, Maxwell. You probably _will_ get shot," Wufei said in a complete monotone, though their was a hint of mirth in his voice.

Duo glared at him. "Hey, I'm not the one that gave him a fucking busted nose!"

Heero grunted. "You held him for me. I'd say that makes you an accomplice."

Shaking his head, Quatre smiled at the other men's banter. "I'll make sure no one get's shot. Like Heero said, I don't think they are planning on harming us."

At that Duo stood, stretching his thin frame upwards and realizing his shirt still hung open, fairly provocatively. His fingers quickly found the buttons as he walked towards the door after Quatre.

But before they could make their exit, Wufei was at Duo's side, shoving the butt of a pistol that Duo remembered leaving in his duffel bag into his side. "Be careful, Maxwell. He may be a Preventer, but we still don't know who's side he's on at the moment."

Duo, nearly shocked by the actual amount of care in the man's voice, took the gun and stuck it in the back waistband of his jeans, hiding it beneath his shirt. "Yeah, okay, 'Fei."

As they entered the hallway and the door closed behind them, Quatre turned towards his braided friend with a slight smirk on his face. "I think we have quite a lot of catching up to do."

Duo groaned, rubbing two hands over his face, his emotions flying off the chart. "Fucking tell me about it, Quat."

* * *

By the time they made it downstairs and were walking through the hotel's modern lobby, the dynamic of their conversation had moved from fuck buddies, romantic interests, and emotional confusion to a subject Duo hated that everyone kept bringing up.

"Why do you always run, Duo?"

"I don't _always_ run," Duo answered, turning to the blond with a scowl.

Quatre gave him a sad, apologetic smile as they pushed through the hotel's large, glass front doors. "You could have kept in touch."

Duo shook his head, the scowl not fading, though his eyes stared hard at his feet as they walked. "That's a slippery slope." He sighed. "If I kept in touch then I'd have to have some sort of fucking mailing address or phone number and that means bills and responsibility and filling out forms and shit."

"Most people do that," Quatre pointed out.

"Yeah, well I ain't 'most people,' Quat."

"Okay. You don't have to tell me _why_ you run, but you could tell me who you're running _from_."

Duo stared at him. _Sneaky little bastard!_ Instead of letting the question visibly irritate him, he smiled deviously and heaved his shoulders up and down once nonchalantly. "From being like 'most people,' I guess."

"I'm like 'most people.' I have a mailing address and a phone number. I fill out forms."

"To each his own."

"Duo." Quatre's voice was deeper now, like he damn well meant this was going to be a serious conversation and Duo better take it damn well seriously.

Duo put his hands in his pockets. They were almost across the parking lot now. "Fine. I'm running"

"From what? Being ordinary?"

"From how things used to be."

"Things are nothing like they used to be, Duo," Quatre retorted.

Duo narrowed his eyes. "Shit, things are getting more and more like they used to be every fucking day around here." He pictured Heero's bare chest in his mind and clenched his eyes shut, willing himself not to think about that right now.

Quatre placed a tentative hand on the man's forearm, stopping their trek to the Crown Vic for a moment. "Duo, what's really going on?" he asked, great concern in his aqua-blue eyes.

Duo stared at him, trying hard to hide any unnecessary emotion. Though he figured that would be fucking impossible around Quatre. It always had been impossible in the past. "Ever since we've all been back together I've been looking at you, and everyone else for that matter, and it's like this fucking thing in the back of my mind keeps telling me how shitty I must seem to you. You're all making it and, well, I'm just the same fucking guy from the war."

Quatre narrowed his eyes and frowned. "Duo that's not true at all."

Duo raised his brows and smirked. "Look at me, Quat."

Quatre shook his head and matched his smirk. "All that we've got that you don't are cell phones."

"But what have I got that you don't?" Duo countered, his eyes growing dark beneath unruly bangs. He ran a hand unconsciously over the shaved side of his head, feeling the scar tissue beneath his fingertips.

Quatre stared at him for a moment longer, but didn't have an answer. So the two kept moving towards the Crown Vic, their original mission flittering back to their minds and Duo's fingers moving from his head to behind his back to check on the loaded pistol. Just in case.


	10. Those Eyes, Sweet Lies

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, and mild adult themes.

**A/N:** Thank you for your awesome reviews! Here's a bit longer chapter, let me know what you think. Don't worry, the foundation setting is finally coming to an end and the action is about to pick up after this. Enjoy.

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 10: Those Eyes, Sweet Lies**

_Rumble And Sway - Jamie N Commons_

When Quatre and Duo arrived at the Crown Vic, the braided man's hand still about his weapon, though over his shirt as to not pull too much suspicion his way, he realized that maybe they really didn't need such protection.

Sean Davis slowly rolled down his window, the passenger side covered in a garbage bag that Duo had noticed from his balcony view. He nearly winced at the site of the splint across the young man's face; Heero had done a fucking number on him.

"Taking a nice little stroll, boys?" Davis said, his voice deep and almost nasally due to his obvious injury. Both men shared an uneasy glance between each other. It was quite odd behavior for a tail to be chatting with them so casually. But hell, they were there for the same reason, weren't they? And he obviously wasn't just an ordinary tail.

"How's your nose, Davis?" Duo chided, purposely using the man's name to show him they were very well aware of his identity and involvement within Preventer.

The man grunted, but did not answer. _Touche_, Duo thought, _he's not here to play games_. Though he fucking would have liked to play at least a little bit. He was getting tired of searching for wisecracks and ways to annoy the men he'd been shacking up with as of late. Shit. He cringed internally at using the phrase 'shacking up.'

Quatre decided to take a different approach. "I'm assuming you aren't about to tell us why you're following us?" he wondered in his casually diplomatic voice.

The man kept staring, contemplating his answer, and giving the two drastically different men a once over. "All in due time. I have my orders."

"Yeah, but just where the hell are those orders coming from?" Duo was getting slightly fed up now. He leaned his arm on the top edge of the car door and bent to peer at the man in the driver's seat through darkening eyes.

"Mr. Maxwell." It was fuckin' bizarre hearing his name coming from the stranger's mouth, especially prefaced with 'Mr.'

Duo narrowed his eyes as the man kept speaking. "I have done absolutely nothing to harm any of you. If you think I had something to do with that car bomb, you are gravely mistaken."

Duo snorted out a laugh. "Shit, yeah you were unconscious in the backseat of your car, huh?" He figured a little more salt in the wound wouldn't hurt.

Quatre cleared his throat as if to apologize unnecessarily for his friend's words. "We are just trying to get things straight here, Mr. Davis."

Davis held up the palm of his hand to stop anymore conversation. "I understand. But I also have my orders. So if you'll excuse me." With that he rolled up his window, but did not start the car or make any attempt to move his vehicle from its watchful position.

Duo glared at him for a second through the glass before turning on his heel and heading back towards the hotel at a quick gate, Quatre not far behind him.

"What a dick."

"Easy, Duo. He's only doing his job. And obviously he is working for Preventer. Maybe he _is_ just supervising the investigation-"

Duo turned his head swiftly. "You really think Une trusts Wufei that little?"

"No. I think Une probably doesn't trust all of us now that we are back together. Our track record is admittedly not the most reliable." Quatre shook his head solemnly.

Clenching his fists, Duo responded through grit teeth. "I still don't trust Davis. Something's off here, Quat."

Quatre had to admit that all the evidence and instances piling up around them did seem to point to something much bigger than the case Wufei was originally entrusted with. Not to mention the emotions that seemed to be floating between the five pilots now that they were all occupying one living space together. He pinched the bridge of his nose as they entered the lobby again; he was in desperate need of some aspirin.

* * *

Heero watched as Quatre popped some white pills into his mouth, washing them down with a large glass of water. He stared back down to the papers he'd been studying and had an inkling feeling in the back of his mind.

When the two men had come back from their 'conversation' with Sean Davis things were obviously tense. Duo seemed characteristically impulsive and Quatre had apparently given up trying to reconcile his angry feelings towards the mysterious Preventer.

The explanation of what had happened upon reaching the Crown Vic was short and simple.

"He didn't shoot us," Duo had said.

"What did he say?" Wufei had wondered.

"Some bullshit. He didn't confirm or deny anything. So basically we're back where we started," Duo had answered.

"Was he angry about his nose?" Trowa had asked.

Quatre had given him a quiet smile through the pained look on his face. "He didn't say, but he seemed pretty embarrassed."

And that had been the extent of their conversation. Now they were just sitting in absolute silence.

Heero's eyes flicked to Duo, sitting cross legged on the couch next to him, picking at some dirt beneath his short fingernails. Trowa sat at the hotel room's small kitchen counter, engrossed in something flashing across Heero's lap top screen. Wufei pushed through the front door, a large paper bag full of take-out in his arms.

"It's about time!" Duo hopped up to help Wufei with the food.

Heero also rose from his seated position, but made his way towards Quatre, who was now washing his cup in the sink.

"Quatre, I'm handing this information off to you."

Looking up, Quatre gave Heero a quizzical glance. "Why, Heero? They're your leads-"

Heero shook his head. "I trust your strategic skills _and_ your judgement."

Trowa looked up from the computer screen in front of him, but did not say a word. Quatre's eyes flashed to the tall man and then back to Heero, but did not answer as Duo plopped down the bag he'd retrieved from Wufei down on the counter. "Save us all a lot of trouble and just agree, Quat," Duo said with a grin and a flirtatious wink in Heero's direction. Oh how he missed making the Japanese man blush!

Heero, fighting back said blush, glowered at the braided man, but swiftly turned his attention back to Quatre. "You're a natural leader and we should take advantage of that." His gaze flicked up. "As long as that's acceptable with you, Chang?" His words were icier than they needed to be.

Wufei gave him a blank look and nodded. "Of course. The investigation seems to be straying away from Preventer's original case anyways."

Looking slightly flustered, Quatre took the packet of information from Heero and set it on the counter before him, staring at it warily. They were all gathered in the small kitchen now as Duo rummaged through the paper bag in order to pass around the plastic containers of Vietnamese cuisine from a little place down the street the front desk had recommended.

They all ate in relative silence, the only sound being a twenty-four hour news channel playing softly on the flat screen television. Heero and Duo occupied the couch while the others hung back in the kitchen. Quatre studied the M.R. information while he ate.

Sitting next to Heero on the couch made Duo have to forcibly resist the urge to flop his legs down across the other man's lap in a casual sort of way. It was almost as if they weren't in a hotel room in Sanc with the other three ex-pilots investigating who their stalker was with Preventer seemingly breathing down their necks. No, it was almost as if they were just fucking ordinary people enjoying each other's company and eating take-out in comfortable silence together.

He wondered if Trowa and Quatre ever felt this awkward within each other's company, but then he remembered their apparent visits over the past several years. He smirked lightly at the thought. They were seemingly perfect for eachother after all, a much better match than he and Heero. Though he supposed that might be subjective; for all he knew the other men's relationship was just as dysfunctional as their own...well whatever the hell you'd want to call it.

As he finished his food, Duo turned slightly, leaning his back against the arm of the couch, his eyes glancing to Heero's unreadable features and then towards the kitchen. Wufei was engrossed in the day's newspaper, while Trowa and Quatre cleaned up after themselves with an air of domestication about them that made it seem as though they'd been doing such ordinary things like eating dinner and tidying the kitchen together for a long time. They followed each other, mirrored every movement. Perfectly timed, perfectly succinct.

With a rough sigh, Duo rose from his seat and unceremoniously dropped his empty take-out container in trash can. He leaned against the counter, still focussed on the petite blond and his taller companion. How had they stayed so in sync with each other, even now in their new lives, post-war, while he and Heero seemed to be so damn utterly out of sync?

Wufei cleared his throat next to him, causing the braided man's attention to switch to the newspaper the Preventer held up, obscuring his face. Instead of giving the man a challenging look, like he was normally accustomed to for old time's sake, his eyes found a particular article that jumped out to him from the backside of the paper.

He poked a finger at the title. "Look at this, 'Fei."

Wufei closed the paper and gave the man a pointed look, quirky a lithe eyebrow upwards, but flipped the editorial over in his hands until he was staring at the back page. His eyes narrowed. "A grant proposal from a former employee of Winner Corp?" he muttered under his breath, skimming the article. Duo leaned forward, trying his best to read upside-down what he hadn't already been able to before pointing out the oddity to Wufei.

Upon hearing his last name, Quatre turned away from an engrossing conversation with Trowa, his ears perking. "What about Winner Corp?"

Heero had now joined them in the kitchen, following suit with throwing his container in the trash before walking to peer over Wufei's shoulder to have a closer look at the article now the center of the five men's attention.

"A former employee of Winner Corp, an L4 satellite branch, is requesting grants for an unknown research opportunity," Wufei replied, rather blandly as he continued to skim the article.

Duo squinted. "Obviously it's not too unknown otherwise this article would have never made it into the newspaper."

"Is there a name?" Quatre asked.

Wufei shook his head slowly, his eyes finally peeling from the paper to meet aqua. "No. It just states that said researcher was employed for about a year at the Corporation."

"Shit, what's the point of putting something like this in the paper with no name and so little fuckin' information?" Duo looked to Trowa and then to Heero, hoping the logical parts of their brains would kick in at the prompting question.

Heero's shoulders stiffened. "It's a plea to get the public's attention, or Preventer's-"

"Or ours," Trowa finished his statement, his lips setting in a grim line.

"This is what Une was speaking to me about. This article must have prompted our odd conversation earlier," Quatre explained, running a hand through his hair rather nervously.

Duo huffed another sigh, placing his chin in the palms of his hands and his elbows on the counter. "But this couldn't have anything to do with Heero's body double or our shitty-ass stalker...could it?"

Heero's eyes flickered to Quatre and Duo noticed, immediately realizing that he truly was relinquishing power of operations to their blond comrade. Quatre returned the gaze with slight apprehension before clutching the packet of information in his hands yet again.

"The only way to find out," Quatre began. "Is to start some investigating on our own. I've taken the liberty to divide these names up amongst us for the sake of efficiency. Though, at this point I don't think any of us should be traveling alone."

Duo almost laughed at that, knowing full well he would have paired himself up with Trowa on purpose. He wondered uncomfortably which of the other two men he would find himself with...surely not both? That would be just fucking asking for trouble.

Wufei, as if reading the braided man's mind, spoke up immediately. "I'll take an assignment on my own, Quatre." It wasn't a request, but more of a demand.

Quatre nodded, having expected this much. Wufei was never one to work on a team or with a partner, and besides their numbers didn't exactly match up and sending a particular threesome out to investigate might result in only two coming back. Which two, was a whole different question.

He handed Wufei a stack of papers. "Mizzerahi Ryland. L4-A4004. Former Oz solider, he is conveniently enough employed through Winner Corp now," he explained. "While you're there you can check out the satellite branch of the Corporation and see if you can learn anything about the research grant proposal." He spoke in such a systematic way that Duo was nearly thrown headfirst back into the war as Quatre gave orders like a seasoned strategist.

Without waiting for response, Quatre was already handing Heero his own stack of documents. "Michael Richardson. London, England. Former data analysis dispatcher for the White Fang. Worked heavily with the Zero System."

He looked towards Duo with a knowing glint in his large eyes. "You and Duo can take this on together, I trust?" His words were directed at Heero, but his gaze never left his braided companion, almost as if to catch a reaction. Duo gave none, though it was fucking difficult to hide both his concern and excitement at the proposition.

Heero nodded in affirmation, accepting the fucking mission as usual. Always with that 'Perfect Solider' act.

Quatre then turned to Trowa for a slight moment. "We will take Matthew Rook. L1-A0305. Another man formerly employed by Oz." He turned back to the group. "That will leave only one name left to be investigated."

Duo's brows furrowed. "I thought there were _five_ names on that list?"

Quatre gave him and the other four men a solemn look, then took the newspaper from Wufei's hands and turned back to the front page. On it was an image of destruction, no doubt a bombing attack. Duo recognized the carnage instantly, his hand instinctively flying to the shaven side of his head.

"Marner Reitveld perished in a terrorist attack. He was our fifth name. Leaving only one left."

Wufei grabbed the paper back, clutching at it stiffly as he looked over the article, reading names of some of the better known deceased. Reitveld had been a five star general during the war. A pit of dread began to well in all of their stomachs. Could this have to do with their investigation, or was it possible the man's death was purely happenstance? A horrible, ice-like feeling ran down Duo's spine at the hellish thought.

Heero swallowed. "We have our assignments. If we are to contact one another, use the vaguest possible ways of speaking about anything pertaining to this conversation right now." Quatre nodded in agreement at the sound advice.

Duo rubbed at his temples in a frustrated manner. "Even the fuckin' walls have ears...and _eyes_, huh?"

Heero placed a hand on Duo's knee underneath the countertop, nearly making the other man flinch at the touch. There were no words exchanged, but it was an acknowledgment of just how true his statement unfortunately was.

* * *

The flight into London, England was short and sweet, though Duo still found himself restless and in need of a good stretch...or maybe a good lay. He shook his head in an attempt to physically shake the lewd thoughts from his mind. It was mission time and he knew how Heero felt about his missions.

It was nighttime, nearly midnight now and the air outside was damp with moisture. When they walked into the hotel that Quatre had somehow managed to book for them it was all business. Heero checked them in under the false name he'd been bestowed by their new, fearless leader, while Duo surveyed the lobby. The place was, again, much more lavish than what Duo might have chosen for such a short lived trip, but hell, he figured he might as well enjoy the luxury while it lasted. All on the Winner Corp tab to boot.

As they entered the room they were to be sharing, a shiver ran down his spine as both their eyes found the sight of a king size bed staring back at them. "Shit," Duo muttered under his breath. He shook his head, wanting desperately to rip Quatre a new one for such a presumptuous and prodding move on his part.

Heero, though having also paused to stare at the singular bed, didn't seem to be as frazzled by the thought as Duo. Or maybe it was that he was just too fucking good at hiding his stress from his companion. Duo desperately hoped it was the latter.

"You know, Quat's a great strategist and all, but for once his intuition may have been a bit fucking skewed," Duo smirked out, again trying to hide his discomfort behind categorical humor.

Heero turned as he set down his duffle bag in one of two chairs that sat by a small table. "You're really that concerned about the bed?"

Duo shook his head slowly, his brows screwing up. "Well...no." He had no fucking clue how to answer such a question. Were he and Heero really going to sleep in the same bed just like that? No awkwardness, no contact, no temptation? Or was the man implying other things...

Shit, Duo couldn't read him at all and it bothered his so devastatingly that he could feel a cold sweat forming at the nape of his neck. Earlier that day they'd been in bed together, post-fuck, not a single emotion running between them, not even in the form of physical contact. It had all been so calculating, so necessary, so passionate and yet so..._detached_. Just another fucking mission.

Heero obviously didn't buy his answer and when he moved forward, closing the gap between them, Duo took a step backwards, the inside of his knees hitting the bed sharply, causing his body to fall into a sitting position atop the muted duvet.

Heero stared at him in that peculiar Heero Yuy way, like he was studying him, sizing him up, trying his hardest to understand the braided man before him. Duo stared back, letting his duffle drop unceremoniously towards the floor with a soft thud.

"What do you want from me, Duo?" Heero's questions were becoming more and more stress inducing. Since when did he get so verbal with his feelings? Duo opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out, so instead he just shrugged weakly, averting his eyes to the floral carpet beneath their feet.

In an instant he felt fingers run through his bangs, brushing them from his eyes. When he looked up, Heero withdrew his hand almost as if he was unsure if he had gone too far. But hell, they'd been fucking earlier, what difference did it make at this point if the man wanted to touch his hair?

Duo sighed roughly, it made a huge fucking difference and they both new it. That kind of touch was personal..._intimate_.

The braided man finally found his voice. "You know what I want, Heero." _Yeah, he sure as fuck knows what I want...him! All of him, all to myself. _It wasn't too hard to figure that one out.

Heero frowned. "I apologize if I acted out of line in Sanc." The statement was so characteristic of the man that it actually made Duo grin. There was the Heero he knew.

"Not out of line at all, 'Ro," Duo answered, thinking of the way he'd anticipated a punch, but received a kiss instead. Oh how he was craving those lips again right now.

Duo stood now, a new confidence rising in his gut at Heero's obvious ignorance. How could he have thought there was nothing there? Just because they hadn't had time to fucking cuddle or any of that shit didn't mean this wasn't real. This was more damn real that anything he'd ever experienced before.

As Duo rose, Heero stepped backward and the braided man followed, almost challengingly. The dark blue eyes he stared powerfully into reflected a confusion that only made Duo advance again. Finally, as Heero's back collided softly with the wall behind him, Duo knew he had won.

If Heero really felt bad about 'taking advantage' of him in Sanc then maybe it was time to return the favor.

In an instant Duo had pulled the other man in for a long, passionate kiss, his tongue wandering impulsively. Heero, unable to resist the teasing nibbles assaulting his lower lip, fought back, pushing his hands hard into Duo's body, roving over his muscles, his mouth exploring the other man's lips ravenously.

It only took a few more seconds before they found themselves sprawled on the king size bed in a passionate embrace, Heero's hands pinning Duo to the bed out of sheer compulsion.

And then, just as quickly as they'd fallen into each other, Heero pulled back. He stared down at the man beneath him, his mind analyzing the situation. Duo reached a hand up to the back of his neck to pull him back in, his eyes half-lidded now, but Heero resisted rather forcefully.

_Why the fuck did he have to spoil the fun with thinking and logic?_ Duo screamed in his head as the slightly lustful fog began to lift. Finally they were touching again, finally getting somewhere, he hoped at least, and now they were stopped, simply entangled on a bed that had purposely been given to them for a reason. So why were they fighting that reason?

"Maybe we shouldn't." Heero stated softly. Duo never associated the man with the word guilty, but that's almost how his words sounded. Was he leading him on through the apparent need for sex? Shit, at this point he didn't care. He didn't even care if their stalker was going to document them through the goddamn window! All he cared about now was Heero.

Duo shook his head slowly from side to side staring up into dark blue. Heero didn't want this? But his eyes, his fucking beautiful eyes, said otherwise. Why the hell was he lying?

"We've got a fuckin' king size bed all to ourselves and you're tellin' me 'maybe we shouldn't?'" Duo shot back incredulously, his eyes still slightly glazed over with anticipation. He clenched his teeth and pulled Heero back in for another kiss, which was only momentarily resisted.

Sure as hell, those eyes weren't lying.


	11. Chasing Down The Days Of Fear

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, and mild adult themes.

**A/N:** You're continued support and reviews are so appreciated. This is one of my favorite chapters thus far, the actions picking up a bit. Let me know what you think of it.

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 11: Chasing Down The Days Of Fear**

_The Miracle (Of Joey Ramone) - U2_

Duo stared down at the eyes below him, watching blandly as the life seemed to filter out of their blue depths with each passing second. The fingers wrapped around his victim's throat were pulled tight across the delicate skin of the man's neck, leaving bruising marks beneath them without an inkling of hesitation.

Death was something he was so unconditionally accustomed to. Feeling the lifelessness of a body in his arms, watching flesh rip from bones and blood drain from slashing wounds. He was the fucking God of Death, Shinigami in its rawest form.

And this moment was no different.

He squeezed against the windpipe harder now, watching as the man beneath him struggled for air instinctively, his face contorted in a natural, human panic. It didn't even phase the braided man. He merely watched with quiet curiosity, strangling his victim with ease.

There was a moment of familiarity and he thought for a split second that his conscience was finally awakening. He looked into those eyes and a spark registered within his mind, but his hands still crushed down around the man's throat. It was too late for him now anyways.

You don't mess with fucking Shinigami.

And you don't fall in love with him either.

* * *

Duo shot up in bed, a cold sweat enveloping his entire body. It was morning now, that much he could tell as a faint outline of sunlight filtered in behind a pair of thick curtains still drawn across the hotel room window.

His fingers shakily ran through chestnut bangs, damp now from his restless sleep and those fucking nightmares.

He squeezed his eyes shut, bringing the heels of his hands up to rub at them until he saw nothing but pressurized darkness in their depths. Shit, he hadn't had dreams like those in a long time now. He had, quite naively, thought they were finally a thing of his past. But how fucking wrong he was.

Duo removed his hands from over his heavily lidded eyes and blinked them open, their gaze immediately averting to an empty pillow next to his. Heero was conspicuously absent.

Last night he had pushed so hard, maybe too hard. He'd received one half of what he desired, a damn good portion; the sex was as amazing as ever. But the other half, the words, the discussion he longed for, the answers, those he did not receive. Why did he have to push so goddamned hard?

Shaking his head, his mussed braid swinging against his back, Duo stood up, stretching his arms up towards the ceiling, wondering if Heero had left for reasons other than a need for caffeine or more reconnaissance for the ever pressing mission.

Deciding he hoped his companion hadn't abandoned him like he was always impulsively tempted to do, Duo decided a hot shower might benefit him. Hell, at least he would be somewhat presentable when the other man made his return. And he used _when_ not _if_ to try and somewhat assure himself of that return.

This was something he was unused to. Wanting Heero to return and wanting to still be here when he did get back. This was usually his cue to leave, to run, to hide away and make an appearance sometime later on when he needed the comfort of Heero's skin against his own again. It would have been a perfect opportunity to make his escape, but there were so many fucking things holding him back; the investigation, 'Fei, the photographs, damn Preventer. And maybe so was Heero and that incessant need to figure out just what the hell they were doing together.

He was fucking scared but he still stepped into the shower and tried to fight down his impulses to disappear by doing the normal, human morning rituals.

The hot, nearly scalding, water felt magical over his surprisingly sore muscles, boring into his skin, creating a massage against his body's surface. He knew he would have bags under his eyes, those were fucking inevitable after a restless sleep. But he hoped so badly that Heero wouldn't associate his sleepless night with _him_. Though he may have played a sickeningly starring role in the bad dreams, Duo knew, after all this time, that they were rooted in his mind for bigger reasons that Heero's return into his life. Shinigami loved to fuck with his mind like that.

So instead of thinking about that, which might have triggered another episode or spilling of his guts, Duo thought about the mission. He unfurled his braid and let the warm water soak through to his scalp, even the scars on the exposed side of his head relishing in the sensation.

The photographs flashed across his memory. The ones Heero had shown him, the ones of just himself or he and Heero together. The one of his bare chest, a pallid arm wrapping around it provocatively. He desperately wanted Heero to believe that one was a ruse, but he knew the man wasn't that damn ignorant.

And then Sean Davis' smug face caught in his mind. Duo unconsciously clenched his fists, the shower pelting the back of his neck and tops of his shoulders in an almost soothing manner. Why the Preventer made him so uneasy he wasn't certain, but he knew he sure as hell didn't trust the man...

His train of thought was broken abruptly by the sound of the hotel room's front door slamming. _Fuck_. He knew it was Heero, but still it made him jump uneasily. Turning off the water, Duo rung his long hair somewhat dry and stepped from the tub, grabbing a thin, white towel from the rack, drying his skin and wrapping it rather tightly around his waist, just low enough to allow his sharp hipbones to stick out over-top.

Duo opened the bathroom door and walked into the room, trying his best to act as nonchalant as possible. But shit, that was getting to be pretty much impossible now that he and Heero were apparently sharing the same bed, having not-so-casual sex, and being disgustingly open with each other. Needless to say, Duo was on edge about more things than just some fucking nightmares.

Heero sat at the small table residing in the corner of the room, sipping coffee from a to-go cup from some generic coffee house. There was an identical cup sitting on the table next to a paper bag Duo's grumbling stomach hoped contained breakfast.

"How did you sleep?" Heero's question was so knowingly ignorant that Duo had half a mind to laugh at it. But he nodded his head a couple of times, unconvincingly and muttered, "Fine."

Duo bent to unzip his duffle bag in order to find a suitable pair of clothes for the day ahead. He was about to retreat back into the bathroom to change, but Heero's low voice drew him back to the man sitting in the corner, watching him with cautious eyes. "You know, you can change out here."

Duo scoffed, realizing that his behavior was uncharacteristically modest and odd. Normally he wouldn't have thought twice about dropping the towel in front of Heero. But that damn nightmare was still so fresh in his mind that he had almost forgotten their current situation. Shit, they'd seen each other quite naked last night.

With an obviously forced roll of his eyes for the other man's benefit, Duo flung the damp towel onto the bed and dressed, rather more quickly than normal, until he was clad in dark, slim jeans that hugged all the right curves, and a casual, black t-shirt.

His chosen attire was quite the opposite of Heero's crisp, grey slacks, and tight fitting navy blue baseball shirt. Duo's mind thought amusedly of the spandex the man had worn when they were teenagers and wasn't sure if he was happy or disappointed that that particular style choice had obviously gone out the window in his adult years.

Duo raked fingers through his damp hair, expertly braiding it as he stared at Heero expectantly. He wanted the other man to say something, acknowledge their previous actions the night before, tell him it wasn't _just_ sex. Heero stayed silent.

"What's on the agenda today?" Duo asked, finishing off his braid with a dark rubber band, realizing that making conversation directed at their mission might finally get Heero talking to him. Hell, all he needed at this point was some familiarity, some sort of common ground. If their mission gave him that, everything else might fall into place eventually.

Heero's fingers rested lightly atop the papers sitting on the table beside him. "Quatre gave us Michael Richardson for a reason. He doesn't currently have a permanently listed place of residence." He stared at the smirk forming at Duo's lips knowingly. "And considering he once worked with the Zero System I too have some commonalities with the man."

Duo snorted. "So Quat expects me to be able to find him and you to be able to reason with him?"

Heero shrugged. "It says that he works for a security agency. IT specialist."

"Sounds like a stand up guy. Maybe I have less in common with him than you think."

A dark look flashed across Heero's face at Duo's statement, but he tried his best to focus on the mission and not at the man's admittance of apparently not being a 'stand up guy' himself. He shook his head. "Richardson has been arrested on suspicion of hacking and security breaches several times, but has never once been convicted."

Duo's smirk turned to a frown. Hell, maybe this guy really was a lot like him after all. He walked over to grab the now cooling cup of black coffee and lifted the papers up off the table to have a look for himself. There was a grainy picture of Richardson, obviously taken from his work's data base, maybe an ID photo of some sort. He was in his early thirties, with sandy blond hair, a square jaw, and wiry shoulders; a build not unlike Duo's own thin, but muscular frame.

"Hmm," he sighed, still staring at the papers and taking a sip of coffee. "I guess we'll start at his place of work then. Star Security Systems." He found that to be quite a bullshit name, but kept the wry thought to himself.

They ate a quick breakfast that consisted of bagels and some prepackaged fruit. Both men were silent as they ate, and Duo wondered if Heero was thinking about the night before just as much as he was. Shit, he probably should be focussing on the mission, but he couldn't stop picturing the other man's naked body in his memory. Dammit, he needed to get ahold of himself.

Heero drained the rest of his coffee and stood, rummaging through his duffel bag to pull out a small pistol and stuffing it in the back waistband of his slacks. Duo watched him with a sly smile as he did the same with his own firearm and realized that they were in fact much more alike than people gave them credit for.

"Y'think Michael Richardson's really our guy?" Duo wondered as they exited their small hotel room, leaving the previous night behind and slamming the door shut.

Heero eyed him as they made their way to the elevator. "He has probable cause."

Duo shook his head with a grin. "That doesn't exactly answer my question."

Pursing his lips, Heero faced the elevator as it chimed its arrival to their floor. "I've been investigating these names for a while now and nothing has turned up. These last ones are the most probable," he paused as they entered the thankfully vacant elevator. "And yet I can't help feeling there's something we are overlooking."

Duo leaned against the back wall of the mirrored carriage. "It's kind of fucked that one of our leads was blown to bits." He sighed, thinking of the recent terrorist attack all too similar to the one he'd found himself in just after the war. "I hate to agree, 'Ro, but I have this shitty feeling this isn't going to be as easy as we're making it out to be."

Heero grunted his reply and agreement as the elevator shot downwards, carrying them to an unsure fate. And one thing Duo hated most was damn uncertainty.

* * *

Star Security Systems was housed in a remote building that looked as ordinary as any of the office buildings in London's 'Tech City.' Everything was modern and colored in shades of grey, white, or black. It was a lucky break that they'd managed to rent a small, black, nondescript car in order to travel as inconspicuously as possible through the city. Duo's eyes flashed in the side mirror of the passenger seat every few seconds, searching for a tail he never was able to make. But dammit if the ice in his gut didn't make him believe they were still somehow being followed. Or make that _watched_.

"Plan of action?" he muttered, giving Heero a sidelong glance as they pulled into the building's parking lot, finding a space next to some other cars. It was going on 10 A.M. now, everyone should be inside at work so they had to try their best not to seem too suspicious.

"We're just going to talk to the man," Heero said with a shrug. "It shouldn't warrant any problems."

Duo gave him a crooked smirk. "That's why we have guns tucked at our backs, eh?"

"Hn," Heero grunted in his customary way. "Precaution. They're concealed, Richardson won't even know they're a possibility unless they need to be."

They exited the car, locking it securely behind them, and walked briskly towards the security building, going in through the front door as Heero had planned. They weren't doing anything wrong after all, just talking with a certain Michael Richardson. Still, Duo felt some sort of unease in his tense muscles. Nothing was that fucking easy, especially not for ex-Gundam pilots who never seemed to have luck on their side.

The lobby was ordinary and easy to navigate and soon they were staring at a directory with names, departments, and floors listed. Heero's finger found the label for IT and Duo's gaze followed the appendage as it went across the board to stop at the floor number: 6.

They rode in the elevator, not saying a word, Duo only staring at his black booted feet, the toes of the military style shoes quite scuffed and worn. Heero's own shoes shone under the dim light above them, not a fucking mark on them. He wondered if the 'perfect solider' next to him noticed how utterly disheveled the man was and had always been. How on earth they fit together he would never be sure.

The elevator opened on the sixth floor to a receptionist desk that reminded him of the desk he and Wufei had visited during their time at Winner Corp. He hoped that this receptionist would be a bit more helpful.

Both of their eyes scanned the area behind reception where dozens of cubicles and desks resided, people working diligently behind them like they probably did everyday, nine to five. Duo decided he didn't envy them one damn bit.

Heero was speaking to the receptionist with a surprisingly kind and warm tone that made Duo squint; he could really pull out that Heero Yuy charm when he needed to and he wondered why he had never pulled it out for him. But his thoughts were immediately interrupted as his eyes were drawn to a tall figure that stood in a cubicle directly behind the reception area. He had sandy blond hair, slicked across his head with an inordinate amount of gel; the man's eyes connected with Duo's own, studying him oddly for a moment before breaking the gaze at the sound of something coming from Heero's mouth.

Duo's thoughts came back to reality just in time to realize the connection, but not in time to warn Heero. "...speak with Michael Richardson?"

By the time Duo's hand found Heero's bicep, Michael Richardson was already running hard and fast and slamming through the stairwell door at the far end of the IT floor.

"Shit!" Both men uttered the curse in perfect synchronization as they took off after him.

As Heero thrust open the stairwell door, they could both still make out the frantic clipping echo of the other man's shoes as he rushed down the cement stairs, probably taking them two or three at a time. So Heero and Duo met his challenge and began sprinting and leaping as fast as they could without causing themselves bodily injury in order to catch up with their lead.

Hell, they must have been stupid to think this would be anything but fucking difficult. As a matter of fact, fucking difficult was becoming the norm.

"He must be fuckin' guilty!" Duo panted out, nearly having to yell the words over the sound of their feet against the cement and the pounding of his heart in his ears. "Why else would he run?!"

Heero just shook his head, deciding to save his breath for the more pressing trek they were undergoing. Both men had already pulled their firearms out of their hiding places, though the safety's were still on in hopes that they wouldn't have to resort to actually using them.

They reached the first floor in record time, but still unable to quite catch up with Richardson. The stairwell door that led to the lobby was just clicking closed when they arrived, Heero pulling it open roughly, but a soft movement from within the shadows behind them caused Duo to turn, raising his gun and flicking the safety off all in one fluid motion.

Within seconds Heero had let the door slam back shut and had his own gun pointed at the shadowy area just under the stairs that led to the first floor. No one said a word for a long and painfully silent moment before Michael Richardson appeared in the barely lit space, his hands raised and his lips drawn in a pensive frown.

"Don't fuckin' take another step, Richardson." Duo's words were harsh and still heavy with gasps, but there was an appreciative smile on his face. "I've got an itchy trigger finger. Just ask him." He flicked his head towards Heero's stiff position next to him, a light in his indigo eyes as he remembered the first time he and the brunette man had come into contact some years ago on the docks.

Richardson stopped. "No need for violence," he said with a light British accent wrapping his statement.

"Why did you run?" Heero asked simply.

"Hell, I thought you guys were coppers."

"Cops? Us?" Duo bit out indignantly, acting more offended than necessary.

"What other kind of blokes chase a guy down a stairwell with guns pointed at him?" Richardson fit them both with a quirk of his eyebrows and a slight twitch of his lips.

Duo scoffed, blinking a few times and tilting his head in confusion. "You really worked for Oz during the war?" He couldn't believe how ignorant the ex-solider was seeming to be. Shit, maybe he really wasn't their guy.

Richardson's eyes darkened. "How in bloody hell do you know about that?"

Heero shook his head, obviously annoyed by Duo's rash words. "Look, all we want to do is talk to you, ask you a few questions."

Richardson shrugged. "Talk all you like, but you don't need guns in order to ask questions."

"Seems like we do," countered Duo, not lowering his weapon. "Seeing as how you just tried to evade some guys you thought were cops."

Lowering his hands slightly, Richardson eyed them blandly. "If you really knew that much about me, you'd know that evading the police is nothing new."

Duo laughed internally as the bitter thought of 'I know how it is' ran through his mind. Hell, maybe he could get through to the man after all, seeing as how similar they appeared to be. Quatre had put he and Heero on this lead for a reason after all.

"Look I get it, I've done my fair share of running," Duo said, finally putting the safety back on and lowering his gun, but still not putting it away. It took another hesitant moment until Heero followed his lead.

Duo wondered vaguely if his words had struck a chord within Heero as much as they'd just struck a chord in his own mind. His shoulders stiffened at the thought.

Richardson looked pleased with the lowering of their weapons, but still did not make a move other than to place his hands at his sides. "What is it that you need to know?"

Heero began before Duo could, knowing exactly the questions he planned to ask and not wanting the other man to act too abruptly. "First of all, do you know who we are?"

The British man gave them a quizzical look and the genuine confusion in his eyes answered the question for Heero even before the man spoke. "Not cops," Richardson replied with a short laugh. He shrugged before continuing. "Two guys who fancy chasing ex-Oz soldiers down at their places of work?"

There was the opportunity for him to lie, both Heero and Duo knew that. But it seemed after all this, why would he have made it so easy to catch him? Yes, he'd ran, but he was also at work, in plain sight, and wasn't carrying any form of weapon like they were. He'd hidden in the shadows in hopes of tricking them, but if he'd known who they really were he would have known better than that. He'd been clumsy and ignorant not calculating and all-knowing like their stalker appeared to be.

After another moment of contemplative silence, the man sighed and stared at them, crossing his arms impatiently. "Anything else?"

"What did you do during your time with Oz?" Heero asked. He had a file, a fairly comprehensive one, but he wanted to hear it from the man's mouth and see his physical reaction to the question.

He was rewarded as Richardson's body grew stiff and he frowned, visibly shaken and angered by the query. "I don't know how you know that I was ever employed by Oz, but you should bloody well know it wasn't for long." He scowled in their direction, but when Heero's gun raised upwards again towards the man's chest he sighed. "If you must know, I worked with the Zero System, a devilish pilot program. After I watched multiple men become injured, or worse die, at its hands I quit. Had to go underground during the war or else they'd have had my head. Oz wasn't terribly forgiving of deserters if you know what I mean."

The information was both interesting and shocking to the ex-pilots. Duo turned to fix Heero with a stiff gaze. This wasn't their man, he was an Oz solider turned rebel, his motive had just gone out the fucking window.

Heero lowered his weapon again, this time placing it back in his waistband, covering it with his shirt. Duo smirked and followed suit, his eyes never leaving Richardson. "The Zero System, huh? Sounds fuckin' terrible."

The memory of his first time encountering the impossible system assaulted his mind. How in the hell Heero had mastered such a system he would never understand. But he supposed that's what made him Mr. Perfect Solider, didn't it?

As they turned to leave, realizing there was really not much else to say to the now even more confused man, Duo heard his voice through the partially open doorway.

"So who are you guys, anyways?"

The braided man watched as Heero started across the lobby, but he couldn't resist having a bit more fun. He turned back just enough so that his voice would carry through the cracked open door to the British man still standing behind it.

"Let's just say we're the God of Death and the Perfect Solider. Count your blessings, Richardson, you're lucky to still be breathing."

* * *

When they made it back to the car Heero sat in silent contemplation while Duo placed his arms behind his head and closed his eyes. Shit, he was actually kind of tired, but all in a good days work he supposed. Though he realized that he was probably more tired from his assaulting nightmares the night before than chasing their lead down six flights of stairs.

The sound of Heero's cell phone ringing caused both of them to jump.

Heero's eyes looked to the caller ID before answering. "Quatre?"

Duo knew instantly that something was not right as Heero's eyes grew larger and the voice on the other end of the phone grew more frantic and unsure. Duo hoped it was just Quatre overreacting and blaming himself for something stupid or unavoidable. But watching Heero's expression he knew for damn sure it wasn't as simple as that.

When he finally hung up, Duo was pawing at his arm. "Heero, what is it? What did Quat say? Fuck, 'Ro, talk to me!"

But Heero wasn't listening to him, he was flinging open the door to the car, slamming it behind him, and running full out back towards Star Security Systems, Duo hot on his heels.

"What the fuck, Heero?" Duo yelled after him.

Heero turned slightly, not letting the movement slow him down as they approached the front doors. "Trowa and Quatre found Matthew Rook dead upon their arrival to L1," he bit out through clenched teeth.

Duo cursed under his breath, realizing the sudden urgency. They rocketed themselves through the front doors and sprinted across the lobby, people dodging them as they went, the woman behind the front desk, looking up at them with shocked eyes.

When they got to the stairwell, Heero grabbed the handle and flung it open, but the coppery smell of blood that assaulted their noses told them of the man's fate before they ever laid eyes on the body.

Michael Richardson lay sprawled across the stairs that led upwards to the first floor, a red bullet hole through his forehead and crimson pooling down the stairs, creating a macabre waterfall of blood. Duo thought he might actually be sick, for the first time in his life, at the sight of death.

Heero took a step forward, his jaw set so tightly that Duo could see the muscles constricting. Heero stared at the body, his eyes icy and hard and it took Duo a moment to realize what he was looking at with such intensity.

Resting atop Richardson's chest was a small piece of plain white paper, a note scrawled in capital handwriting that instantly reminded him of the addressed envelopes they had all received.

_** Nice try, you're getting warmer.**_

The note wasn't signed, but they both knew who it was from. And now there was one more fucking dead body to cross off their list.


	12. Let All My Memories Be Gone

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, and mild adult themes.

**A/N:** Here we go, onto Chapter 12. Reviews, predictions, sentiments, follows, love it's/hate it's, what-have-you are, as always, greatly appreciated!

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 12: Let All My Memories Be Gone**

_Japanese Cigarette Case - Spoon_

Duo sat on the edge of the king size bed with his head in his hands. Could it be fucking Shinigami? He'd had contact with Richardson, though extremely minimal, and he'd died just as suddenly? But then again, he'd never even seen Matthew Rook and he'd been murdered in just the same way.

"Duo?"

He wasn't sure how long Heero had been standing before him or how many times he'd attempted to get his attention or to provide any sort of comfort, but finally the cotton from his ears seemed to lessen and he was able to actually feel the warm hand atop his shoulder now.

Duo looked up into dark blue eyes that held a glimmer of concern. Heero was kneeling before him, his hand on the man's shoulder, the contact obviously his best form of support. For a moment the braided man actually felt slightly embarrassed for forcing this clearly uncomfortable position of consoler onto him.

Fuck, Heero had seen that dead body, smelled the metallic blood, read the goddamned cryptic note just as Duo had, but yet he was still trying to comfort his companion, albeit very stiffly. But why should _he_ be so entitled to such emotional trivialities? Hell, he had lived through the war as a fucking Gundam pilot, he could handle this shit. He couldn't even begin to count all the dead bodies that had piled up around him. He hadn't even known the man for heaven's sake.

Duo brushed Heero's hand off his shoulder, but caught it seconds later not wanting the man to think he was rejecting his touch. No, he was just rejecting the idea that he needed to be consoled.

Heero stared at him, concern morphing into confusion as Duo seemed to finally come back to reality. "Are you okay?"

The words still seemed foreign and ill-fitting in Duo's mind, but he nodded anyways to at least attempt to appease the brunette still kneeling before him.

Heero sighed and Duo wondered vaguely if it was just from the distress of their current situation or if he didn't believe that his braided companion was in fact 'okay.'

"Preventer's working on getting an ID on the bullet," Heero said.

Duo laughed out bitterly. "Yeah, good fucking luck. Whoever shot him point blank wasn't stupid enough to leave a trail behind 'em."

Heero knew this to be true, but was trying, against all odds and the tightness in his gut, to be somewhat optimistic. It was a bizarre attempt for the man. "I contacted Wufei as well as Quatre. Still waiting on a response from the former."

Duo shook his head and stared at the hotel room carpet beneath his feet. He said nothing, thinking there wasn't anything beneficial for him to say at this point anyways. He watched as Heero slowly rose from his kneeling position and moved to sit beside him on the king size bed.

"Talk to me." Heero's voice was soft and low as it trickled in through his ear. Fuckin' making it difficult to refuse the request as goosebumps appeared up and down the flesh of Duo's arms.

"Nothing to say." It was simple and defiant and Duo knew it would annoy Heero the most.

"Hn." Heero's muscles tightened as the words worked just as Duo had predicted. "You can't blame yourself, Duo-"

Duo flicked his vision towards the man next to him, his eyes flashing bright violet. "I'm _not_ blaming myself."

Heero set his lips in a firm line, staring for a moment before replying. "I know what you're thinking," he began, shaking his head slowly. "But, Duo, you're not Shinigami anymore."

Duo bit out another harsh laugh. "It doesn't just _go away,_ 'Ro."

"You have to stop thinking in that way. These things happen."

"Yeah? What about you getting fucking dropped out of a helicopter?" Duo spit out, brushing off Heero's attempt to argue with a wave of his hand. "I know, I know it _wasn't_ you. But, shit, 'Ro, what if it _had_ been you? Then what?"

Heero's eyes narrowed. "We can talk about all of the 'what if's' in the world, Duo, but that doesn't mean they're going to happen."

Duo hated that Heero's words were dripping with logic and common sense. All he wanted to do was sulk and think about death and how shitty life could be and Heero couldn't just let him fucking do that, could he?

He was about to respond with another biting comeback, but almost as if he was anticipating the fight that seemed to be brewing, Heero drew closer and placed his lips atop Duo's in an almost soothing manner.

Duo wanted desperately to resist, to ignore the kiss and keep right on discussing those stupid 'what if's' and fucking Shinigami, but he couldn't. He never could resist Heero after all, and even now, after all this time it was as if nothing had changed.

His hand had moved to the back of Heero's neck to pull him in closer when the sound of a phone ringing cut through their abrupt intimacy.

"Dammit-" Heero muttered as their lips begrudgingly pulled apart. Duo wondered if maybe he had been wrong about their relationship, that maybe Heero wanted this sort of overt affection. But, hell, that scared him even more than the thought of just fucking for no plausible reason.

Duo watched as Heero rummaged through the pockets of his bomber jacket until he was successful in finding the still ringing phone, but the braided man realized quickly it was not just a cell phone, but a small compact communicator. Heero answered curtly as a figure flashed onto the screen. "Chang?"

The muscles in Duo's stomach tensed as if on cue. He hated how the feelings of uncertainty about Wufei and the all too obvious photograph still made him so uneasy. So instead of dwelling on that he listened as closely as he could to the conversation taking place without actually allowing himself to be seen by the man on the other end of the screen.

"Mizzerahi Ryland has been missing for over a week, though no one at Winner Corp seems to know much about him, oddly enough." Wufei skipped straight past any form of greeting, moving onwards, fucking business as usual.

Duo could see from his position on the bed, slightly behind Heero but not close enough to the communicator to be seen, that Wufei was walking briskly out of a building that he assumed was the offices of Winner Corp.

Heero grunted, annoyed by the news. "Have you spoken with Quatre or Trowa?"

Wufei nodded once. "Rook and Richardson are dead so I've heard." His voice was hard and deep as the words rolled off his tongue with a bitterness around them. Duo swallowed, the feelings from earlier traveling back into his tense muscles.

There was a moment where neither spoke and Duo began to feel restless and guilty that he was listening in on the conversation without revealing his presence to his friend and comrade. Obviously Wufei must have known he was there, but still they had parted with such an awkwardness still between them that he really didn't feel like speaking to the man. Hell, it wasn't really necessary anyways.

"I'm coming back to Earth-" Duo heard Wufei say, but an odd clicking sound as the man was apparently opening the driver side door to his rental car caught his attention and his indigo eyes flicked back towards the communicator just in time to see, and hear, the sickening sight of an explosion ripping through the air.

"Fuck," he jumped up next to Heero and his hands began to shake.

"Chang?!" Heero yelled into the communicator, helpless to do anything but stare at the pavement now filtering in through the screen. The device had been dropped post explosion.

Duo yelled, but the fear running through his entire body caused his ears to become once again filled with silence. He was screaming Wufei's name, Heero saying something to him in attempt to calm him, but he could hear none of it.

All he could think of was the sound of Wufei's voice before the explosion, so calm, so casual. _Damn Shinigami._

* * *

Heero, who was supposed to be dead, decided it would be best if he was not the one to contact Preventer about the sudden dropped communicator call and apparent attack on Wufei Chang.

So, after much coaxing and a couple of shots from the hotel's mini bar, Duo had calmed his emotions enough to make the dreaded call.

In the end, it didn't really make much of a difference as Preventer seemed to already be on top of it as they'd been contacted by Winner Corp on L4. According to Une, who was extremely begrudging with sharing information with Duo for some fucking infuriating reason, finally admitted to him that Wufei was, in fact, alive and on his way to Earth by shuttle at his own request.

It was several hours later that Heero and Duo found themselves waiting in a sparse, hospital waiting room, both consumed with their own thoughts. Duo was wrapped up in memories he desperately wanted to forget. Memories that involved himself and Wufei and then just as suddenly there was Heero attacking his subconscious.

He thought if he kept his mind on other things, like reading through the waiting room's stack of outdated and uninteresting periodicals he might be able to rid himself of the graphic images replaying in his head. It wasn't fucking working.

Stress seemed to be eating away at both men, Heero having been completely silent since their arrival, and by the time a nurse came out to inform them that Preventer had finally given them clearance to visit their comrade, they didn't realize how long they'd been sitting there waiting.

At this point, Heero didn't even seem to care if someone from Preventer found him to be alive. After all, he was quite in tact and their case seemed to be edging on that of someone else's attempted murder anyhow. It didn't make much fucking difference if the initial reason for investigation was gone, there were many more new reasons to attend to now.

The nurse guided them towards Wufei's hospital room, but upon reaching it they noticed another figure through the tempered glass window outside the small, white room.

Sally Po was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at a seemingly coherent Wufei with some sort of emotion that Duo couldn't quite read. Suddenly his stomach contracted uncomfortably. Though she had been a doctor during the war and was a member of the Preventers now, she appeared to be here strictly on a casual basis. She wore civilian clothing and her lips were painted her characteristic glossy red.

"Sally's his emergency contact."

Heero's words broke through Duo's thick thoughts and he contemplated asking how he knew such information, but realized that didn't really matter at the moment. Fuck, it was Heero after all, he seemed to always know every last detail about people.

Suddenly, staring at the scene before him, Duo began to wonder just how well he knew the Chinese man lying in the hospital bed behind that glass window. They'd been 'together,' in no uncertain terms, more times than one, but yet the word 'together' truly did the worst job at explaining their odd relationship. Certainly they had not been together in a romantic sense, so then why did Wufei seem so bothered by Duo and Heero's obvious attraction?

But, shit, here was Sally, someone Duo had always assumed was interested, but he'd never been sure about his companion's personal orientations. Maybe all this time he'd been wrong about him, he had been married after all...

In that moment, Sally's vision flicked to the window and the two sets of eyes watching them from the outside. It was almost as if she could hear Duo's internal monologue as she gave him a long stare, reading him as she had always tried to do during the war.

She stood and then Heero and Duo began to realize how bizarre it must have been for her to see them there, staring at the 'couple' through the window as if they were on display. She flicked her hand towards them in an inviting manner, but Duo hesitated, unsure of how to proceed.

Heero, on the other hand, grabbed at his elbow as if knowing that Duo might attempt to run away, and dragged him towards the door and into the hospital room. Duo felt slightly sick and he couldn't tell if it was from the sterile smell of his new surroundings or the uncomfortableness he felt as the four were now trapped together in such as small space.

"Sally." Heero nodded towards her in greeting.

She set both of them with a soft smile. "I'm glad you're here. Wufei would probably appreciate someone different to speak with. He's grown tired of my company."

Wufei, who in Duo's mind did not appear to have been 'blown up' like they'd assumed he was, gave the sandy-blonde woman a pointed look. "I can speak for myself, woman."

She laughed quietly and then patted Duo on the shoulder as she turned to leave. He hoped she couldn't feel how he tensed under her touch. "Take care of him, huh?"

Heero nodded and Duo kept his gaze down towards the white tiles beneath his feet. Why he felt so uncomfortable he wasn't quite sure, but as soon as Sally left the room, he let out the breath he had subconsciously been holding.

Wufei crossed his arms and stared at them, silence enveloping the three men save for the beeping of the monitors he was still hooked up to. Duo brought his eyes up to stare at the IV stuck into the Chinese man's hand, a thick bandage wrapped around his upper right arm, and a small tan colored bandage stuck to his forehead, apparently hiding one of his few injuries.

"You're looking..._alive_," Duo ventured, trying hard to swallow his feelings and act as normal as possible. Wufei grunted and shook his head, trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile.

Heero rolled his eyes, but did not say anything as he seemed to agree with the braided man's sentiment. Hell, it was a true statement after all.

Wufei shrugged. "Preventer training helped. I was able to avoid anything worse than this by being quick on my feet. It's a good thing I opted for insurance on the car though. Of course, it's all on the Preventer tab anyways."

Duo smirked at this and decided to keep up the obvious lightness of their conversation. "You know, technically I'm working for Preventer now. Shouldn't I be getting compensated in some way?"

Duo noticed that Heero's eyes grew dark at this information and he realized he'd never had that conversation with the man. Wufei just let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, well when you almost get blown up we can start talking benefits."

Trying to make light of the situation in hopes of cheering their comrade up, Duo kept up the banter. "Takes a terrorist attack for me to get some real cash, eh? Well, if I look as good as you do afterwards, that might not be such a bad deal."

There was a hint of a smile in Wufei's eyes at this and Duo wondered if he'd missed their sharp conversations as much as he did. Maybe their heated conversation earlier was becoming just a distant altercation. But the sound of a throat clearing next to him brought Duo back to reality. Heero gave him a pointed look. "No one else is going to get blown up or hurt in any capacity if I have anything to say about it."

Wufei gave a grim nod that made Duo's brows furrow. "Heero's right. We might have to relieve ourselves of this case. It's become too extreme and too personal."

"Too extreme?" Duo asked with an incredulous look at both the men staring all too fucking seriously at him. "We used to pilot fucking mobile suits of death and this is 'too extreme?'"

Heero placed a firm hand on his shoulder and squeezed once. It was meant as a reassuring gesture, but at the time it came off as irritated. Which Heero _was_ irritated, but more with the situation itself, not Duo.

Wufei's teeth clenched. "I don't want to give it up, but I almost died. You can see why that would make me change my philosophy a bit, can't you, Maxwell?"

Duo shrugged. Shit, he understood. It was obvious they were all being targeted and he didn't want to endanger their lives anymore than they already had been. But they were in so deep now, and it was going to be fucking hard to just let it all go and let Preventer handle it.

Heero turned to Wufei with a thoughtful expression. "Do you think Ryland is dead?"

Wufei shook his head grimly. "Actually, based on what I was able to glean from the situation, he may have been more of the target of attack than myself. If he'd been with me at the car most likely he would not have survived. Preventer informed me that the bomb was placed on the passenger side."

The air became thick between the three men as this information settled in. The sound of footsteps behind them, startled both Heero and Duo. Wufei glared past them as they turned around, Heero's hand impulsively going to the back of his slacks, searching for the handgun that was no longer there.

First through the small room's doorway was Sean Davis, looking much more tired than he had the day Duo and Quatre had 'greeted' him. Though his characteristic silver splint across his nose was still there, it seemed sightly less swollen now. Duo would have loved to fucking punch him again, splint or not, but he resisted the urge as Heero's hand came back to rest securely on his shoulder again.

What surprised all three men was who walked in the door next, following the Preventer rookie with a frown pulling at her full lips.

Une hadn't changed much over the last couple of years, her brown hair straight and flowing just past her shoulders, her eyes dark and sharp as ever. She wore the same jacket as Wufei, but her uniform was much more feminine with the addition of a knee length skirt and black, leather flats that clicked with every step against the white tiles beneath their feet.

Une stared at Heero and Duo point blank. "So which one of you broke Davis' nose?"

Duo wondered why she was just now getting around to asking, but instead of allowing it to be an easy answer, he gave her his best sly grin and said with a flick of his hand. "Does it matter?"

Une shook her head and he could tell she was trying her best to hold back a grin. It was hard, even for a seasoned Preventer, to resist his unusual charm. "No, not at this point. But it still shouldn't have happened."

Duo felt Heero's fingers tighten on his shoulder and he wondered if he was starting to feel guilty or else just didn't want to have to fucking deal with Une and her lectures on violence at the moment.

But then again, maybe it was the fact that here he was, in the living flesh. Heero Yuy: alive.

Duo hooked a thumb at him, the grin on his face not fading. "Heero's alive."

He heard Wufei sigh roughly behind them and even though he didn't turn to look, he was almost sure that the little vein in his forehead was protruding once more.

Une nodded again, giving Heero a once over. "Yes, I am fully aware of that." Her voice was so impossible to read that Duo was unsure just _how_ _long_ she had been aware of that.

Heero, finally releasing Duo's shoulder from his ever-powerful grip, stared at Une and then at Sean Davis almost as if sizing them up. "Why are you here?"

Une gazed past them towards Wufei. "One of my own has been injured. It is my duty to-"

Heero shook his head. "No. Why is _he_ here?" He pointed a stiff finger at Sean Davis, and Duo thought that maybe his own paranoia towards the man was starting to rub off.

It seemed their feelings of un-trust towards Davis might have been more true than they thought as he strutted towards Heero with a vengeful look in his eyes. Apparently a broken nose hadn't been enough to teach him a lesson.

His right hand was bunched into the size of a softball as it sailed straight towards Heero's jaw, the other man's attention still seemingly on Une waiting for an answer. But the Preventer's form was poor and his impulses obviously overtaking any common sense he might have had. The fist hit Heero's palm a foot in front of his face, a lot of weight behind it making one hell of a smack in the suddenly silent room. His eyes were still glued to Une.

Duo watched as Heero portrayed the utmost example of superhuman self-control.

All three ex-pilots were inevitably imagining the next obvious move in their minds. Every instinct and training dictated a well-placed head butt to Davis' injured nose. But Heero held back, probably due to Une's presence and the embarrassment at her subordinate's actions he saw forming on her face.

"He is just as much a part of this case as Chang is," Une answered his earlier question cooly.

Davis pulled back with a growl and Duo turned to give Wufei a pointed look. The injured man tensed as he stared past Duo towards his superior. He had a harsh look of knowing realization that made Duo's teeth clench. "Why did you put me on this case, Une?" he asked slowly.

She met his gaze with a fierce one of her own. "All the Gundam pilots are now accounted for."

Duo screwed up his brows, turning to her, his voice gruff when he spoke. "If you wanted our help, why not just fucking ask?"

Une shook her head. "Because we don't need your 'help,'" she answered. Her tone was calm and even and made Duo's teeth clench even fucking harder. "We brought you here as bait."


	13. Drop A Heart, Break A Name

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, and mild adult themes.

**A/N:** Thank you for your reviews! As you'll notice the story is definitely deviating, at this point, from my inspiration, _Bad Luck and Trouble_. It will be going in and out with that storyline, just FYI for those Lee Child fans. As usual, your input and comments are always appreciated.

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 13: Drop A Heart, Break A Name**

_Sugar We're Going Down - Fall Out Boy_

Moments after her confession, Une had been pulled away to answer an 'important phone call.' Duo wanted to follow her and maybe get in a couple of good curses in her direction at the idea that anything else was more 'important' than the fact that she had all but admitted to using the Gundam pilots as some sort of twisted fucking 'bait' in her latest Preventer investigation of God knows what. But he didn't. And he had a sickening feeling it had to do with the surprisingly calming hand of Heero that still clung to his shoulder.

Sean Davis, unlike his superior officer, stayed in the small hospital room, appraising the three men with an arrogance that made their skin crawl. He'd clearly gotten his aggression out with the impulsive and poorly thought out attack on Heero's upturned palm and was moving on past the idea of vengeance. But his new attitude was even less appealing than a discomposed one. So, since he wasn't going to be allowed to go after Une, Duo decided to channel his anger in the rookie's direction.

"What the fuck is Preventer playing at?" Duo spit out.

"Easy Maxwell." Wufei's voice was strong and defensive, even coming from his bandaged and bed ridden form. Duo looked at him out of the corner of his indigo eyes and wondered vaguely again who's side the man was truly on.

But Sean Davis did not seem to take offense to the braided man's harsh words. Instead he took a seat in a chair next to Wufei's hospital bed and put his elbows on his knees, his eyes never leaving Duo's own.

"Let's get a few things straight," he began. "This is Preventer you're dealing with. We're not idiots, as you should know..." His eyes drifted to Wufei only to be met with a stone-faced glare of unsureness. "We're smart and proactive and usually one or two steps ahead of everyone else. That includes ex-Gundam pilots like yourselves."

Heero and Duo's vision flicked to Wufei to see if he was going to interject, argue, say anything to the man, but he kept his lips in a firm line, simply listening.

Davis smiled half-heartedly and continued his one-sided conversation. "Within forty-eight hours of finding a dead body outside of the Sanc Kingdom we'd briefed Chang, found Maxwell, and had a pretty good idea that Heero Yuy was, in fact, very much alive," he explained. "Which begs the question: just how elite are the Gundam pilots? One, a Preventer who doesn't seem to be well informed of his own organization's investigations. A once 'perfect soldier' now a lap-dog for Relena Darlian's security staff. Another running a corporation that is developing and researching new projects right under his ignorant nose. A man hiding behind a mask with a traveling circus. The last, running from motel to motel looking for an easy way out of life."

Sean Davis' words hit the men like a ton of bricks that none of them were expecting or prepared for. Duo felt as though he should be angry, should have some scathing wise-crack lined up for the man, but all he could do was stand there, slack jawed like his other two companions.

Davis' eyes glimmered with the knowledge that his words had had the acute impact he was looking for. "So low and behold, here we are, five ex-pilots together again. And now, as my commanding officer has so blatantly explained, you know your position in this investigation."

Wufei was the first to finally speak, his tone even. "We are not pawns, Davis."

The other Preventer was quick on the response, like he'd predicted Wufei's move before he'd even opened his mouth. "You didn't seem to have a problem with the idea of 'pawns' when we requested _your_ help. You were the one that originated the idea of finding Maxwell. We weren't the one who suggested his usefulness and knowledge regarding Mr. Yuy." He smiled once again, still fucking insincere. "Thank you, by the way, for making my job that much easier."

Duo growled, his fists clenching. "He wasn't _using_ me. I agreed to help with the investigation because I fucking thought Heero was dead."

Shrugging, Davis replied, "It doesn't really matter to me how you think we came to this point. We are here and that's what's important."

Heero removed his hand from Duo's shoulder and the braided man tensed for a moment, wondering if his companion had finally snapped under the frustrating proceedings. But his words were soft and imploring. "Preventer's theory is that someone is hunting the five of us down?"

"I don't know what our theory is, per se. But that's certainly what the evidence is pointing to. But really, flushing the five of you out is a win-win for me. If you don't show up, maybe they've already got you, which adds pieces to the puzzle. If you do show up, then you're bait, and maybe I can use you to flush _them_ out."

The idea of just who 'they' and 'them' were hung in the air between the four. This conversation was beginning to irritate the hell out of Duo, but he bit his lip to hold back the sarcastic remarks bubbling up in his mouth.

"Preventer's been sending the photographs?" Heero asked, his tone still very neutral.

Davis shook his head. "At first we really thought you might be dead. The autopsy was pretty clean, what with your fingerprints and all. But, when we intercepted an encrypted message to the Vice Foreign Minister, our thoughts began to change. That's where you two came in." He gestured to Duo and Wufei blandly. "We didn't know about the other photographs until Chang sent some in for analysis. That's when the case went from being just the murder of someone posing as Heero Yuy, to something much bigger, involving all five of you it seems."

"And why the fuck does Preventer care so much about _us_?" Duo bit out, interrupting the irritating, long-winded answer. "You said yourself we're ignorant, hiding, looking for 'an easy way out.'" He brought his fingers up to create air quotes around the last several words.

"You think Preventer wants the five heroes of the universe to die at the hands of some common stalker?" Davis asked. Duo wasn't sure if the man was being sarcastic or serious, but either way he had the undying urge to break his nose again.

"Cut the bullshit," Wufei grit out, sitting up more as if he wanted to attempt the same thing Duo was imagining in his head.

"He's telling the truth." Une's voice filtered back into the hospital room from her position back at the now open doorway. "Though there are some holes that need to be filled in."

Duo flicked a hand in her direction. "Care to enlighten us then?"

"I don't believe your stalker is quite so common after all," she said, her words almost heavy sounding as if it were truly unwelcome news. All four men stared at her intently, waiting for her to continue. Even for Davis it seemed to be new information. "Chang managed to retrieve some interesting intel from his visit to Winner Corp on L4. Some of it was damaged in the attack, but what we can glean from the recovered information has just altered this investigation drastically."

Heero's eyes shifted to Wufei. "You didn't mention that."

Wufei visibly tensed, though wincing slightly as his muscles were still tender. "I was kind of dealing with a car bomb at the time. So I apologize if I didn't have the means to recount every detail of my trip," he spit out through clenched teeth.

Duo ignored the exchange, his eyes still glued to the woman in front of them. He laughed out harshly. "So you don't need us as bait anymore?"

Une gave him a hard look from under thick lashes. "An ex-employee of Winner Corp has managed to sustain the use of some of their facilities with inside help. The research that has been blatantly broadcast throughout the news the past couple of days is much more than a simple grant proposal for some new energy resources." She paused almost for dramatic effect and Duo thought he might combust at the forced suspense.

"The research is for DNA replication," she furrowed her brows tensely. "Possibly for human cloning."

* * *

Heero was having a very strained conversation with Quatre on the phone while Duo stared at a now stale cup of coffee resting atop the white table of the hospital's cafeteria. The news of Winner Corp's possible involvement in some sort of cloning operation was beyond anything the five pilots had been expecting.

Shit, DNA replication was something straight out of a science fiction movie. Though, Duo did realize he shouldn't be shocked by anything anymore these days. It hadn't taken long for him to be reminded that Quatre's sisters and friends had all been born of a test tube.

"...we will probably be going back to the hotel shortly to gather our belongings. I've reserved a new room still close to Sanc, but at a less conspicuous location." Duo listened to the tail end of the conversation and thought amusedly that they might finally be bunkering down in a place more suited to his post-war life.

Heero nodded a few more times and then hung up the phone. He gave Duo a soft look. "Trowa and Quatre are going to stay at a Maganac base, lay low for a couple of days. He said they had reason to believe they were being tailed."

Duo frowned. "At least we know it can't be Davis this time. But I guess that's not really good news, huh?"

Heero shook his head. "It's hard to say. We were correct in assuming that Preventer is involved, but there are apparently more parties still unaccounted for."

"Shit, I thought these names were going to make our lives easier," Duo mumbled.

Heero, for some unknown reason, placed fingers atop Duo's hand. Maybe it was to grab his attention, maybe it was to reassure him, but it was a kind touch and it almost made the braided man flinch. "Since when are our lives easy?" he asked, a near hint of faraway humor in his deep, blue eyes.

Duo smirked. "Yeah, how could I forget?"

A presence at the side of their table caused both men to look up and Heero's hand to abruptly leave Duo's. Sally Po looked down at them, her red lips forming a knowing smile, but she did not act on that knowledge presently, which allowed Duo's suddenly tense muscles to slacken.

"Wufei insists upon meeting with you two, but I insist upon him getting the rest he needs in order to recover," she explained in the neutral voice they were both accustomed to.

"Tell him we will come back tomorrow and that we'll call him if anymore progress is made," Heero answered her efficiently.

Sally nodded. "Thank you." She then turned to leave, but before she went she turned to speak over her shoulder with genuine concern in her eyes. "Take care of yourselves."

Duo gave her a mock solute and a roguish grin. "As always, Sally."

Shaking her head, she left the two men again to stare at the table top in silence. Heero was the first to speak. "She's good for him."

Every muscle in Duo's body stiffened. "What's that supposed to mean?" He hadn't meant for the words to sound so harsh and defensive, but he couldn't take them back now.

Heero gazed at him with an odd curiosity, like he was trying to translate the outburst. "I just mean Chang needs to recover and she'll make sure that he does."

With a sigh Duo slackened again. His muscles were going to be sore from all of the tensing. "You're right, 'Ro. He does need her, otherwise he'd probably already be unhooked from those machines and halfway out the front door."

Heero actually let out a soft chuckle at that and Duo considered whether it was due to the amusing image of Wufei Chang sneaking out of the hospital all bandaged up or because of Duo's sudden jumping to conclusions regarding Heero's initial statement.

Instead of waiting around to find out just what Heero finally found humor in, Duo spoke again, changing the subject. "So does this new hotel of ours have a king sized bed?"

Heero's eyes narrowed. "No, but the price and surroundings might be more to your liking."

Duo was unsure whether he should be offended by the statement or not. He decided to brush it off as one of Heero's miscalculated bouts of sarcasm. "Damn, and here I was getting used to the idea of sharing such a big bed."

Duo was trying to mask any residual concern from the day with his own well-placed sarcasm. But the response he received was nothing short of staggering.

"I didn't say we still wouldn't be sharing a bed, Duo." The words left Heero's mouth so quickly and smoothly that it took several seconds for the braided man to register just what had been said to him. And by that time Heero was halfway across the cafeteria.

* * *

When they got back to the Sanc Grand Central, trying their hardest to assess their surroundings, searching and hoping fairly mildly that they might catch a glimpse of their stalker, both men were not even remotely surprised to find yet another envelope waiting for them.

"Fuck, it's becoming a routine thing, huh?" Duo said as he watched Heero reach down to pick up the envelope left for them inside the doorway just as his had been back in that seedy hotel room in New Jersey.

He was turning away, trying not to show his concern for the newest pack of soon to be evidence, but Heero's disquieted voice pulled his vision back around to face those dark blue eyes. "It's addressed to you."

Duo snatched the envelope from Heero's hand with slightly trembling fingers. Maybe they were trembling out of fear or else it was a sudden rush of adrenaline due to how much more fucked the situation was becoming by the minute.

His eyes raked over the hastily scrawled words written in dark, black ink in all capital letters; it made sense, that sort of writing wouldn't be easily traced, but the sight of it so frequently now was making Duo's normally strong stomach horribly weak.

_**The only God in this world is the God of Death. -M.R.**_

It wasn't technically addressed to him. Hell, but it might as well have been. His name could have been written in giant red letters and it still wouldn't have made him as sick as those words did. Duo's fingers curled around the envelope in an almost angry way.

"What the hell is going on, Heero?" his voice was rough and lower than usual. Duo could feel himself being instantly bogged down by emotions. He decided not to wait for an answer to his mildly rhetorical question and ripped open the envelope and pouring a stack of three photographs out onto their previously shared bed.

The images stared up into the two sets of eyes now suddenly blinded with confusion. There was Wufei, pre-car bomb, walking into a Winner Corp building on the L4 colony. Quatre and Trowa speaking with some unknown Preventer officers, presumably regarding the death of Matthew Rook based on the sympathetic look on the petite blond's face and Trowa's competing expression of frustration. And finally Heero and Duo, walking close but not too close as to attract unnecessary attention, in the parking lot of Star Security Systems, walking towards their car in the moment that Michael Richardson was probably staring down the barrel of an unknown gun.

They were so simple and yet almost the most complicated photographs they'd received thus far.

Heero's hand found Duo's forearm and the braided man flinched at the contact. Heero furrowed his brows. "Duo-"

"No. Don't you fucking say it. This was _not_ addressed to me. It's for all of us." Duo could hear his voice pouring out of his mouth but didn't seem to have much control over it as it shook uncontrollably with every word.

Heero was clearly unconvinced. He shook his head. "Quatre and Trowa are under Maganac protection, Wufei under Preventer supervision. Even if it's not addressed to you, you need some sort of security."

Duo turned to him with fire in his indigo eyes. "Stop disengaging yourself from all this shit, Heero!" He hadn't intended to yell, but his internal monologue was getting louder and louder and fuck if he was going to let Heero act as though they weren't a 'we,' because they'd shared a fucking bed for God's sake. This was not just about him anymore, it was about _them_, all five of them including goddamn invincible, supposed-to-be-dead Heero Yuy.

Staring at him with those dark, unreadable eyes, Heero didn't speak. Duo didn't know if he was calculating the correct response in that robotic mind of his or else he really was at a loss for words at the outburst. At this point, either one was a damn possibility.

It took Duo another moment of dead silence for him to contemplate the fact that what he'd said might have had more than just one implication. Yes, he'd intended the meaning to be relevant to Heero's previous statement. They _both_ needed some sort of security if they were going to head down that path, which Duo seriously did not want to do. But then he started to realize that in an overcompensating, literal mind like Heero's his words might have dug deeper. _Stop disengaging yourself._Had he inadvertently described their entire relationship in a matter of three words?

Sure Duo ran away, but what had Heero done to stop him? To keep him there by his side? He was disengaged and Duo knew that he was just as fucked up in his own way and that disengaging was a way to cope with the war and the killing, but shit wasn't he the one always rambling on about acting on your emotions? So why had he never acted on the emotions that seemed to be so palpable, so obvious when they were together in bed, fucking.

And maybe running was Duo's way of coping and disengaging, Heero's. But shit, if making love to one another wasn't the best coping mechanism either of them had ever discovered.

"What are we doing, 'Ro?" It was Duo's way of trying to make up for his recent impulsive words. These were less harsh, but still relevant and a question that had been playing on his tongue for a while now.

"We're checking out of this hotel."

Duo wanted to smack him for taking the question so literally, but he supposed he should have seen that coming. He folded his arms across his chest almost childlike. "Heero, seriously." He paused, realizing he might actually have to say something he had only said to a handful of people in his life. It terrified him to no end, but it was the truth and he sure as shit wasn't going to tell a lie. "I care about you."

He watched as Heero's mind seemed to mull over the question before responding. "You care about Wufei."

There was no 'too' added to the end of the statement almost as if Heero was denying what had been said in regards to him. Why couldn't the man just accept the fucking sentiment? Duo shook his head in frustration. "I care about Tro and Quatre too, but I don't see you getting all fucking jealous over that."

"I'm not jealous."

"Oh, really? You seem to be pretty damn preoccupied with the idea of me and 'Fei-"

"And this makes you angry? Me being jealous?" Heero wasn't usually one to interrupt.

Duo backpedalled, taken off guard by the interjection. He hadn't thought of it that way. "Well, I guess...maybe."

There was an actual smirk playing at Heero's lips. An actual fucking _smirk_. Duo turned red; he didn't like the fact that Heero was suddenly able to get the upper hand in a verbal argument. Shit, that was _his_ department. Heero could have fist fights and war battles, but hell if he was going to let him think he could win anymore arguments.

Turning, Duo wanted more than anything to storm off, though it would have been fairly under-dramatic what with the small size of their hotel room and the remote possibility of making it out the front door without Heero stopping him first.

But before he could even turn his entire body away in order to shut out the still smirking man, Heero had grabbed his wrist and pulled him close in order to scrutinize him with those blue eyes that Duo hated and yet loved all at the same damn time. Oh, now he was so fucked.

Those eyes bored into his own and his muscles relaxed for a moment as Heero studied him, reading his emotions. Perhaps he was still contemplating the meaning of his 'disengaging' comment or else he was just trying to understand Duo wholly and completely for once in their odd and skewed relationship. Good fucking luck.

It took only a brief swipe of fingers through chestnut bangs before Duo was pressing his lips forward, those eyes drawing him in. They kissed briefly, nothing sexual, yet almost more passionate than the kisses they'd shared after their initial discovery of the king sized bed. After a few seconds Heero pulled back, not out of compulsion, but necessity. He spoke in a whisper, his eyes still not leaving Duo's own. "We need to get out of here."

Duo nodded softly and let out a small sigh as the idea of anything more than those light kisses began to filter from his mind. "You're right." He stepped back to distance himself and attempt to bring his mind back to the situation at hand. "And dinner. Maybe we can go somewhere that suits this new hotel of ours."

Heero stared at him like he was crazy for thinking about food at a time like this, but hell even the Perfect Soldier had to eat too, right?

It only took another couple of kisses to convince Heero. Someway or another, Shinigami always got his way.


	14. A Teenage Dream's So Hard To Beat

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, and mild adult themes.

**A/N:** Thank you for your reviews! As you'll notice the story is definitely deviating, at this point, from my inspiration, _Bad Luck and Trouble_. It will be going in and out with that storyline, just FYI for those Lee Child fans. As usual, your input and comments are always appreciated.

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 14: A Teenage Dream's So Hard To Beat**

By the time the two men checked into their new hotel, one that Duo did in fact approve of, they had discussed just what their next move was going to be, thinking of each and every possibility and probably overanalyzing everything to its fullest extent.

And even after all of that, they hadn't come up with one damn plausible thing.

"I'm telling you, we need to investigate the last M.R.," Duo said as he leaned against the wall, waiting for Heero to unlock their new room.

After a familiar beep, Heero pushed open the door, shaking his head. "We're laying low. Not investigating further."

Duo rolled his eyes. "You expect me to sit in this stuffy hotel room for days on end? Until what? Preventer gives us the all fuckin' clear?"

The door closed behind them with a click. Heero set his bag down and turned to face Duo with a quirked eyebrow. "We're here _together_, aren't we?"

_Yeah, and we could talk about the shit that's been going on between us lately, but that sure as hell won't happen._

Duo decided not to voice that particular concern in favor of keeping up his irritated rant. "I don't need you to babysit me."

The comment was offhand and probably unnecessary as it caused a soft glint of indignation at being referred to simply as a babysitter, but shit, Heero's protective act had always felt a little smothering. Duo sighed, he hadn't meant to offend the man.

But as if something had clicked inside the Japanese man's mind at the comment, Duo was suddenly experiencing that famous genetically enhanced Heero Yuy strength first hand as his fingers wrapped around Duo's bicep, squeezing hard enough to leave a mark, and drug him towards the full size bed in the center of the room. He slammed Duo down on the edge before the braided man could even think and had placed his powerful hands atop his knees as if to hold him in place.

Now this was more like them. This angry relationship that seemed to make little sense. Those teenage hormones racing and giving them the best adrenaline spike of their lives. But right now they were trying to be serious, have an adult conversation, not fuck like horny adolescents...right?

Duo put on his best scowl, but it was no match for Heero's death glare. He swallowed. "Look, 'Ro. All I meant was that I don't need anyone to protect me. I'm not gonna do anything stupid."

Heero scoffed. "Right."

Duo's brows furrowed. "Fuck you."

This comment, he quickly decided was also unnecessary, but the other man's reaction was quite different this time.

Strong lips pushed against his own, forcing his body backwards on the bed with a force that Duo hadn't felt since the war. Though they'd been sleeping together now for a few intimate days, these new movements were somehow different. And fuck if they weren't making Duo harder than ever before.

Suddenly Heero wasn't seeming so unsure or insecure. He was fucking dominating the situation and Duo was putty in his roaming hands. It was the most amazing turn of events he could have damn well hoped for.

His lips were bruising and brought Duo back to reality, the force on the verge of painful, but the passion causing his blood to boil. His hands found the hem of Heero's shirt and began to pull upwards roughly, the other man complying and allowing the fabric to be peeled from his upper body.

Heero's lips whispered along his jaw and down to Duo's neck, kissing and nibbling and causing a guttural groan to be ripped from the other man's half opened mouth. Yes, this was what he missed, this primal attentiveness, this impulsive recklessness. Heero matched Duo's earlier efforts and pulled his shirt up and over his head in one fluid motion.

They melted back into each other, the smoothness of skin on skin as Heero laid his full body weight into the man beneath him. And Duo invited him eagerly, realizing that for once it felt more natural than it had in a long fucking time. Their movements were succinct and yet perfectly in tune and it made him think about his curiosity when watching Trowa and Quatre together in the kitchen days before.

Duo's fingers fumbled with the button of Heero's pants and soon the garment was gone and then so was Duo's own and it was only a thin layer of cotton between either of them now.

He could feel Heero's hardness pressing up against his thigh, grinding into him with want and need and then he bucked upwards suddenly sending a shiver of desire through both of their bodies. And then it was all fucking over and the last scraps of clothing were being ripped off their bodies and Heero was fumbling for the small, plastic bottle he knew he would find in Duo's duffle and they were lost in the act.

And amidst everything, Duo realized that maybe he _was_ running away from how things used to be, that he was scared and running was his way of coping. But that was bullshit, because now all he wanted was to feel Heero next to him, hear his voice, feel his bruising lips, understand the words that seemed to be there and yet unspoken.

They needed each other. Needed the sensation of one another's skin against his own. It grounded them both and Duo realized now, like he should have so long ago, that he loved this man because when they were together, for once the world didn't seem so scary.

They were grounded together and together they could be real people again. It was a fucking shocking realization.

So when it was over and they were lying in bed, breathless, Duo finally turned on his side and with a rush of impulsivity that was not uncommon for him he found the words he'd been biting back pouring from his mouth, a little bitter but a lot truthful. "Heero. I like you."

Fuck, not the right word. Dammit, but it would have to do.

Heero's eyes were closed and his breathing even and for a moment Duo thought that maybe he was asleep, or at least pretending to be. His muscles began to relax as he came to the realization that his words, which he was now regretting, hadn't been heard.

But then Heero stirred and a small, nearly imperceptible smile wound it way onto his lips. "I like you too, Maxwell." He paused and the smile grew, his eyes still closed in fabricated exhaustion. "But you're still not going anywhere until we hear more information from Preventer, Duo."

Duo rolled his eyes and flopped backwards on his pillow. It wasn't even his intention to try and sweet talk his way out of the situation by professing his feelings, but shit it was a good idea now that he thought about it.

But obviously it wasn't going to work anyways. Fuckin' overprotective prick.

Alright, alright. Fuckin' overprotective _naked,_ _gorgeous_ prick.

* * *

The next morning, while Heero was taking a quick and efficient shower lacking Duo's presence (but hell if he hadn't tried), the sound of a communicator call coming from Heero's laptop assaulted the other man's still sleepy attention.

"You've reached Heero Yuy's most top secret line, he can't come to the communicator right now. Can I take a message?" Duo answered with a sing-song voice and cheeky grin. He realized quickly that if it had been anyone else on the other end he might have been in deep shit. But upon seeing Wufei's still bandaged visage and nearly amused expression he knew his greeting was at least somewhat appreciated.

Duo quirked an eyebrow. The man was still obviously hospital bed ridden. "Sup, 'Fei?"

"I can't talk for long. Sally will be back any minute now." The paranoia in the Chinese man's voice had Duo biting his tongue to suppress a laugh and witty remark. Maybe Heero was right, maybe they were good together.

Nodding, Duo responded. "I'm all ears."

Wufei sighed and spoke softly as if he was afraid of a nurse or someone overhearing. "This is classified information that even I'm not supposed to know. Une's taken me off the damn case, but that sure as hell isn't going to stop me-_us_-from investigating." Duo was impressed by the bitterness in the man's words towards his Preventer boss and the sudden turnaround from their earlier conversation. "Mizzerahi Ryland has been linked to a rental car in Sanc. For God knows what reason. I'm sending you his last known coordinates. I can't do much from this damn hospital, so I guess you and Yuy will have to take on the dirty work for the time being."

Duo smirked, swiping at the shaved side of his head. "Gee thanks, 'Fei. I see you're getting over your near death experience quite nicely. Are we to assume Ryland has information regarding the real M.R.?"

Wufei shrugged, ignoring the man's offhand comment easily. "At this point it could be anything. He could be the damn stalker for all we know, though I still don't believe I was the key target in the attack on L4. Just look into it. Winner and Barton informed me that they will be on their way back to Earth shortly."

"Maganac's finally letting them out of their overprotective sights?" Duo joked. He thought of how enraged the Arabic men had been when Quatre had run away during the war and wondered just where all their insane loyalty towards the blond originated.

Wufei merely shrugged again, his eyes shifting towards the door and probably the hallway outside his small hospital room. "Dammit. Just do what you can Maxwell. And be safe..._please_." His words were meant to be condescending, a jab at Duo's tendency towards recklessness, but somehow they came across as sincere. The man might have been more fucking confusing than Heero was.

Duo shot him a quiet grin and weak solute before the screen went blank, Wufei's last words being a hissed, "Over and out."

* * *

They were in a bad part of town according to Heero, an acceptable part of town according to Duo, but still they took precautions; his braid was tucked down the back of his shirt and both men wore hooded jackets that made them blend in with their surroundings. No one was going to question a couple of young and untrustworthy looking street rats. It was a natural fit for Duo, but he could tell Heero was still tense about the whole situation.

"Heero, don't you think if someone wanted to kill us we'd already be dead?" Duo asked sidelong as they trekked slowly towards a rental car one long block ahead of them, parked, like the driver was waiting for something. He hated to say it out loud, but shit, wasn't it the truth? Wufei had been barely scathed in his car bomb attack and they could have obviously been shot point blank in the head just as Richardson had been. But they hadn't, only the seemingly innocent had been taken by death so far. It was seriously fucked up.

Heero shook his head, but only grunted his notorious, "Hn." Apparently he was unwilling to actually provide a verbal response probably due to the fact that he agreed with Duo's question. And probably annoyed that Wufei's disposition was suddenly becoming more aligned with Duo in regards the the nature of their investigation.

The moment they reached the curb across the street they had been walking, both sets of eyes were drawn towards two hulking men as they pulled their bodies from the small rental car that was supposed to be registered to fucking Mizzerahi Ryland. He was listed as 5'9" and dark skinned, quite the opposite of either of the men now walking towards them on the sidewalk a block away.

"Doesn't look like that car belongs to Ryland anymore. Not fucking good," Duo muttered in Heero's ear.

Being ex-pilots and war-vets they were probably a bit more aware of their surroundings than normal human beings, spotting a convenience store that might afford cover if things got out of hand. But the paranoia they both immediately felt was something new. Maybe Heero had been right to try and force Duo into hiding.

The two men were large, much taller than either of their apparent targets, but as Duo had learned, size was definitely not fucking everything. The men continued their steady pace and both Heero and Duo continued to appraise them out of their peripheral vision. They were carrying, that much they could tell, but they were also clearly inexperienced, having probably watched too many crime dramas and carrying their guns in their coat pockets like movie-approved villains. _Amateurs_.

Duo had to stifle a laugh, but shit, a gun was a gun he figured. Especially when it was pointed straight at your heart.

"They here for us?" The words were a mere whisper as they left Duo's mouth, trailing into Heero's waiting ear.

Heero clenched his teeth obviously. "They're here for you."

Duo rolled his eyes, but bit back his response realizing that ever since the last envelope had been addressed directly to the God of Death, it seemed that maybe Heero's concern was more truthful than he cared to admit.

"We should take this off the street," Duo muttered, trying to formulate some sort of a plan without giving too much away to their soon to be assaulters.

Heero grunted. "Roger that." It seemed Mr. Perfect Soldier already had a plan. "In. Now."

They both entered the convenience store several steps in front of them with ease and speed, though the world had seemed to suddenly slow down around them as Heero's mechanical mind and Duo's impulsive one worked in time together. The two guys followed quickly, now only twenty yards off.

The convenience store was empty save for a young woman looking bored and underpaid behind the counter. Heero eyed her. Death glare on and powerful as fuck. "Get out of here."

"What?" She screwed up her eyes, a piercing above her eyebrow twitching with her scowl of confusion.

She didn't stay confused for long as both Heero and Duo pulled out the weapons they'd been harboring at their backs and raised them on her in the most nonthreatening way possible. But shit, she disappeared quicker than they'd expected into the back room of the place, leaving them alone, crouched behind a poorly anchored display as the two goons from outside traipsed in, irritatingly pleased smiles on their faces.

They apparently assumed they'd cornered their targets; unfortunately for them they were gravely mistaken.

The two men stopped mere feet from the ex-pilots bodies. Neither breathed, keeping their guns tucked away but easily accessed, a flick knife resting calmly in Duo's right hand just in case. But they had the element of surprise on their side.

Heero gave a count of three on his fingers, tapping Duo's crouched thigh in a strangely intimate way with each beat. One. Two. Three.

On three Heero and Duo heaved the display forward powerfully. It landed the two hulks on their backs with a painful sounding thud, their guns clattering to the floor. The guys were dumb as fuck and should have seen it coming and should have had a better handle on their weapons. They deserved what was coming to them.

Instantly Heero and Duo were moving. The American jumped atop the display, his feet splayed between flimsy shelves riding it like a surf board. The Japanese man, meanwhile, reached out to grab his partner's knife, spinning the blade in his fingers until his hand wrapped the handle and swiftly, without a second thought, severed the webbing between each man's thumb and forefinger. The injury would effectively put them out of commission in the area of holding a pistol for at least several weeks.

Upon hearing their groans of surprise and discomfort, Duo jumped once, twice, three times atop the shelving unit until he was satisfied that the bodies had been crushed enough to at least wind them, daze them, probably knock them into black oblivion.

"Check 'em out or flee the scene?" Duo asked, slightly out of breath, with a side glance towards Heero.

Heero seemed to contemplate the ultimatum for a brief second before grabbing the edge of the shelving unit. Duo hopped off in time for the other man's superhuman strength to pull the makeshift weapon off of the two men with ease. It seemed they had, in fact, been knocked into black oblivion by the multiple impacts. Duo was correct in assuming they were amateurs.

Each ex-pilot took one man and searched his pockets. No identification. Not surprising, they might have acted ignorant and brash, but they weren't _that_ stupid. Or perhaps their employer wasn't _that_ stupid.

Without speaking Heero headed towards the back exit, Duo hot on his heels. Obviously they were still being watched. No shit; but it was getting to be such a norm that Duo didn't even care that much.

They wouldn't go back to their rental car, that much was for certain. But if Ryland wasn't driving the car registered under his name, then where the hell was the man? Probably dead in a fucking ditch somewhere, but Duo was going to try and be more optimistic than that.

He followed Heero through the alleyway behind the convenience store when the sound of a cell phone ringing broke through the silence. This time it really was a cell phone. Heero brought it tentatively up to his ear, having not recognized the blocked number.

"Hello." It was more of a growl than a greeting, but all things considered it was pretty good for Heery Yuy. They'd just been fucking ambushed too, hadn't they?

Duo quirked an eyebrow as he watched Heero listen to the other end, his expression unreadable. It took him a moment to understand the confused expression on the braided man's face as a look of pleading before Heero pressed a button on his phone and the sound of Sean Davis' voice filtered through the speaker.

"...under these circumstances. I wouldn't normally be on the grounds to share information regarding a classified case..." Duo snorted openly at that. Little did the man fucking know. "But seeing as how it involved some of your own-"

"Cut to the point," Heero bit out, uncharacteristically impatient. It made Duo stare at him for a moment too long, studying. Somehow their roles had become reversed for that singular second in time.

Davis cleared his throat, clearly caught off guard by the interruption. But the sureness in his next words were what made Duo's own throat go dry.

"We received an envelope with a tip inside, more of a threat you might say towards two of your companions." He paused, as if to let the information sink in and connections to be made out of his cryptic words. "There's just been a shuttle accident, a private one traveling to Earth. Trowa Barton and Quatre Raberba Winner were the only registered passengers."


	15. Scientists They Couldn't Fix Me

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, and mild adult themes.

**A/N:** Thank you for your constant support! As for now, updates _may_ become few and far between for the next month or so. Just bear with me. Without further ado, here's to the 15th installment of this story... enjoy.

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 15: Scientists They Couldn't Fix Me**

_The Walking Wounded - Bayside_

Heero and Duo found themselves sitting in a room most likely used for interrogation purposes in Sanc's Preventer offices. It had been an hour since they'd heard of the private shuttle accident. No one seemed to be talking about it and that might have been what bothered Duo the most. That or the fact that no damn Preventer seemed to be able to give them a straight answer regarding the accident report. Instead they'd been corralled into the interrogation room like common criminals. It was Une's way of keeping them under her thumb and out of trouble.

In actuality, at the moment, they might as well have been going through a grueling Preventer-run interrogation with the questions and negative air surrounding them in the small room. Sean Davis was on his high horse again, Heero was grinding his teeth, and Duo was just generally fucking pissed.

"What the hell were you thinking taking on the men you were tailing-against Une's orders I might add-do you _want_ to get arrested for assault? You can't just go around cutting people's hands up and leaving them unconscious in convenience stores."

Duo gave his utmost of serious faces, trying hard to ensure his words were tinged heavily with cynical innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Davis gave him a cold stare. "Don't bullshit me, Maxwell!" Clearly he'd struck a chord. The man was obviously not very even tempered and that only added fuel to Duo's fire. Maybe still a bit touchy about his own bout with unconsciousness due to some certain ex-pilots. Heero's fists visibly clenched, but he chose to remain silent.

"The only bullshit around here lately is the fact that two fucking people are missing, probably dead, and Preventer doesn't have the fucking decency to even tell it to us straight!" Duo was rambling and his words were becoming heated and his tone uneven. He could feel a warmth welling behind his eyes and he willed his emotions to keep in check, at least until Davis left. He had no desire of showing any signs of weakness around the duplicitous man.

He could tell that Heero wanted to say something, interject, place a calming hand on his arm, but he didn't and Duo figured that was probably a good thing. Their relationship was none of Davis' business and it would have just solidified the weaknesses he was trying so hard to hide.

There was a long moment where no one said anything and Duo wondered if maybe his words had finally made an impact. He would have to wait on that answer as the door was opened and an unknown face appeared. Clearly the stranger was a messenger sent by someone higher up, maybe Une herself.

"There's a telephone call for Duo Maxwell. It's urgent." The messenger seemed nervous and Duo nearly felt sorry for him as the diverse emotions running through the room were probably quite palpable at the moment.

He furrowed his brows at the news, but moved to follow the young man out from the suddenly claustrophobic room, making sure that Heero was following his movements. At this point he had no desire to be split up from the man, even in Preventer's home base. It seemed that no one could be trusted these days.

They got to a desk, probably an extension of where the call originally came into, and the messenger handed him a phone. It felt heavy in Duo's hand and he felt odd holding the technology. It seemed outdated with its spiraling chord attached to a rectangular receiver with more buttons than seemed necessary. Of course Duo didn't have a phone of his own, landline or cellular, so really, what the hell did he know?

"Maxwell here."

"Duo Maxwell? What the hell is going on? Explain to me why Master Quatre has been conspicuously missing since he and his..." There was a pause of hesitance. "His _friend_, Barton, left our compound on L1." The voice was unmistakable from the moment he'd started speaking, though Duo had had very little interaction with him over the course of the years following the war.

"Calm down, Rashid." Duo almost felt stupid telling someone else to calm down when he himself couldn't seem to follow that advice.

Rashid did not seem to want to heed that suggestion either. "Duo, my job is to protect him. But how can I do that if he's off investigating some Preventer case with the lot of you instead of sitting behind his desk pushing papers like a businessman's supposed to do?"

Duo almost had to stifle a laugh at that. Even he knew how unhappy Quatre was sitting at a desk all day. Rashid must have been speaking at least a little facetiously in that regard. "Honestly, Rashid, at the moment I'm in the dark about his whereabouts as well." He didn't want to push his luck with Preventer and reveal too much, though he didn't really feel qualified seeing as how they refused to divulge a single fucking thing other than the incident of the shuttle crash.

Rashid did not immediately respond and so Duo was going to continue on, mainly just to fill the silence that tended to make him feel so uncomfortable, when a familiar voice came from behind him and the feeling of Heero's hand on the small of his back drew his attention away from the outdated phone.

Turning all he saw was a blur of blond hair before he was being surprisingly embraced by the petite arms of Quatre Winner and all he could do was feel a bout of anger well up inside of him. "Quatre, you sonofabitch!"

The outburst was halfway between fury and shock, but when Quatre smiled sheepishly up at him, Duo couldn't help but allow a small smile to grace his own features. Trowa was not far behind, in the other man's shadow as it seemed per usual. They both were quite in tact and far from dead as silently presumed earlier in both of their companion's hopeful minds.

Duo had almost forgotten that he was still holding the phone, until Rashid's bellowing voice interrupted the moment of relief. Quatre's grin grew more sheepish as he grabbed the device from his friend's hand and began to speak in rapid Arabic to the man on the other end.

Deciding to let Quatre fight his own losing battles with his overprotective bodyguard, Duo turned to Trowa with narrowed eyes. But Heero was able to get the first word in, which was probably for the better.

"Explain," was all he said, giving the taller man a very pointed look.

Duo smirked and Trowa raised a slightly obscured eyebrow. "It was Quatre's idea really."

"Always the strategist," Duo quipped with a soft frown.

Trowa shrugged. "It wasn't too challenging to leave a false trail. Whoever we're dealing with may have underestimated us this time."

Duo's frown deepened. "Or else they're toying with us again," he muttered.

Shaking his head, Heero folded his arms across his chest. "They underestimated Quatre."

"Everyone seems to these days," Trowa responded with a nod.

"If only they'd seen Quat during the war," Duo laughed out bitterly.

Upon hearing his name mentioned several times, Quatre turned with a curious look in his aquamarine eyes. He said a few parting words to Rashid and hung up, probably grateful for the excuse to do so.

"I apologize if our actions caused you any emotional distress." It was such a Quatre thing to say that Duo's frown managed to lift a bit.

He shook his head, feeling his braid shift with the movement. "I'd say we're gettin' pretty used to emotional distress."

There was a moment of hesitance before Trowa spoke. "Preventer seems a bit paranoid."

Duo rolled his eyes, not at his friend, but at the truthful root of his statement. "It seems they're using us as some kind of fucked up bait. They're monitoring us, treating us like untrustworthy kids."

Heero decided to jump in with what he felt to be more relevant. "Ryland is currently missing. Our leads are being taken out. We are clearly being targeted, but it seems less maliciously; we're all still alive." He spoke in such a robotic tone that it brought Duo back to when they'd first met, before he'd been able to break through his training and finally be able to put some feeling behind his words.

Duo opened his mouth to respond, to argue because hell, that's what he was good at, making waves and all. But Heero's cell phone chimed through the small room and they all drew silent.

Quatre leaned into Trowa and whispered something to his partner, bringing soft smiles to both of their faces. Their lips touched briefly, very briefly and Duo wanted desperately to understand how to be that openly intimate. He envied them almost as much as he envied Wufei's own ability to act as though Heero was anything but competition. But now, what with the woman who was currently hovering around him, Duo was beginning to think he might have been imagining the idea that he was being vied over.

Heero said very few words, so little so that the other three men couldn't even make out who was on the other end of the call. He closed the phone and faced them all with a neutral expression, as if the phone call had had little effect on him.

"Wufei needs someone to retrieve him from the hospital."

Duo wondered vaguely why the man kept contacting Heero and realized that maybe if he had some way_ to be_ contacted he would be the first choice. Shit, maybe he should get a phone.

Then he remembered his obvious competition. The braided man grinned, trying to hide his internal conflict. "What about Sally?"

Heero shrugged and did not provide any verbal answer. Maybe he _was_ still being vied for.

"We can all go," Quatre stated. "I've got another car, hopefully untraced for the time being." He paused as if considering something of grave importance. "We need to reevaluate our plan of action."

* * *

At Quatre's unrelenting suggestion, Duo was the one voted to assist their comrade with his discharge from the hospital. The braided man had argued first that it should be Heero, seeing as how he was Wufei's most prominent contact ever since he'd been discovered to be very much alive. When that argument was shot down, the familiar thought that if he had a communication device he would inevitably have been contacted first being the unanimous sentiment, he had argued secondly that Wufei would not _need_ anyone to assist him with his discharge.

And now, because Quatre was not one to be antagonized and bothered when he had his mind set to a task, namely re-strategizing their current situation, Duo found himself seated back in the hospital waiting room, his booted foot tapping the sterile linoleum beneath his toes nervously.

When Wufei emerged, his nerves only grew and that was probably what unsettled Duo most about his current situation. Not even the fucking murder attempts and threat of death could rival his adolescent need to resist any sort of confrontation with Wufei. At least not without Heero present.

For a moment Wufei stared at him with a quizzical expression and Duo considered that maybe he was reading into everything way too much. Wufei had Sally...right?

Duo stood and took in the man's post-hospital-bed appearance. He still had a bandage wrapping his arm, but otherwise seemed unscathed. He carried a small duffle bag on his shoulder, his civilian clothing rivaling Duo's own in color, but the other man's t-shirt was slightly less faded and his dark jeans much less worn and less distressed. It was almost like looking in a mirror to see what could be, but finding the sad truth when looking down at what actually was. But shit, Wufei was making it, Duo had already covered that.

The Chinese man broke his confused stare and took a few steps toward Duo, his hand patted the invisible space above Duo's shoulder because he sure as fuck wasn't going to actually touch him, and then proceeded toward the exit past him. "Thanks," he said quietly, almost as if he hadn't meant for the word to actually slip from his mouth.

Duo shrugged noncommittally, trying to be cool and not seem too torn up about things he was probably just making up in his head. He swallowed hard and as Wufei began walking towards a set of stairs that led down to the hospital's lobby, Duo spoke up from behind him. "Listen, 'Fei-"

Wufei's hand flew up, the palm facing forward in a commanding way. Duo stared at the back of the pale appendage as he followed the other man down the stairs, several steps behind. "Water under the bridge, Maxwell."

Duo immediately wanted to argue. Maybe it was because he still craved that interaction or else he truly was feeling guilty in regards to whatever he and Wufei had had some time ago. Whatever the fuck you want to call it.

He wanted their altercation, the words spoken that they both probably regretted, to be water under the bridge, but there was this annoying little nagging feeling that it would come back to bite them one day.

They reached the end of the stairs and started for a glass revolving door that would lead them back out towards the car that held the rest of their affiliates. "Where's Sally?" It wasn't really what he wanted to ask, but it filled the silence and he was curious about the woman's whereabouts.

Wufei turned slightly to appraise Duo out of the corner of his eye. He pushed into the revolving doorway and for a few seconds the two men were cut off from each other by the glass dividers. When they were outside, he finally answered. "I asked Une to find an assignment for her. She means well, but she can be a bit..._stifling_."

Duo smirked at the man's careful choice of words. It was obvious that he didn't hate the woman, like some might have assumed after witnessing their interactions; she was his emergency contact after all. But Wufei had always been a lone wolf, and even during their brief encounters it had never been about intimacy. For either of them.

By the time they reached Quatre's waiting car, parked several blocks from the hospital in hopes of some sort of confidentiality, the two men had finished their conversation and there was an air of almost friendliness about them once again. It was something that should have made Duo feel satisfied, but it only added more weight to the pit of nervousness in his stomach.

* * *

It was nearing dinner time, still early, but it seemed as though none of them had replenished their strength all day. What with ambushes, shuttle attacks and all that shit, adequate meals hadn't really been their first priority.

Duo took a long swig from his glass of ice water while listening to the conversation taking place in front of him with surprisingly thoughtful ears and a silent disposition.

"Whoever it is, they have studied us, our methods, our tactics, our personalities. They're always at least two steps ahead of us." Wufei spoke methodically, which gained him several nods of agreement from his fellow companions.

Trowa frowned. "Preventer?"

Wufei shook his head. "I just can't bring myself to believe that. We have got to be missing something here."

"There's still the fifth name to investigate further. So far it seems as though Menta Rolland is still alive," Quatre responded with a grim smile.

"A woman?" Wufei quirked a curious eyebrow.

Duo snorted at that, but still did not verbalize anything more. Quatre nodded, giving the braided man to his left a pointed look from the corner of his eye. "Her current residence is listed on an L2 colony."

That information got Duo's attention, his eyes narrowing. Shit, L2 was a breeding ground for innumerable vices and all things lecherous and oftentimes violent; he hadn't been there in years, but the memories were still quite fresh in his mind. It sadly wouldn't surprise him if their stalker did originate from that colony sector.

"Any news to you on the possible under the table research through Winner Corp?" Heero directed the question at Quatre.

The blond frowned. "No, but my thinking is that the CEO would be the last person to hear about anything underhanded or illegal going on inside his corporation." His words were tinged with a cynical form of sarcasm that Duo usually found only in his personalized arsenal.

This whole time Duo had stayed silent, contemplating and finally when he opened his mouth the first thing that popped into his mind came pouring out. "The last envelope was addressed to the fuckin' God of Death. Whoever our new 'friend' is doesn't seem to be the least bit intimidated by any of us, which is their first fucking mistake." He shook his head and smiled bitterly. "I still don't trust Davis, not from a Preventer standpoint, just a personal one."

There was a thoughtful bout of silence, as if his words were slowly sinking into the other men's minds. Wufei clenched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. "He _is_ the one I received the intel on Ryland's rental car location from."

Duo shot him a look as if contemplating whether or not to state the obviously warranted 'I told you so,' but he restrained himself. As damn hard as that was to do. "Yeah, those idiots didn't know what hit 'em," he muttered. "Not as smooth as their apparent boss."

"We're _assuming_ that all these incidents are one in the same," Trowa stated, his green eyes glowing with thought through shadowing bangs.

Duo furrowed his brows. The man had a point, but shit he just had a gut feeling about this one. It would have been a pretty damn big coincidence. "You know what they say when you _assume_," he said with a quirk of his lips. He knew none of them were making asses out of themselves, but himself...well he decided not to open the door to that conversation.

"Either way, we've got to keep exhausting all options," he added to no one in particular.

Heero turned his gaze towards Quatre. "Ideas?"

Quatre pursed his lips, at this point not phased by Heero's obvious faith in his strategic abilities. "A night's sleep and an early trip to L2. We've got to exhaust all options, like Duo's pointed out. Menta Rolland is our last option, not counting the currently missing Mizzerahi Ryland."

Duo rubbed his temple over-dramatically, muttering, "All these M's and R's are fuckin' with my head."

"We're not under Preventer's supervision now so we need to tread lightly," Wufei said with a grim expression, ignoring Duo's last comment swiftly.

Heero frowned. "_You're_ not under their supervision anymore as an employee on this case. That doesn't mean they're not still supervising us in other ways."

"Let them. We've been free agents before. Our allegiances are with ourselves, just like the war," Trowa said, channeling the role of a quiet cynic.

Quatre smirked darkly. "But this time around we haven't a clue who our enemy is."

They stared at one another for a moment, contemplating the gravity of the extremely true observation. They were working alone now, not a problem. However, with someone watching their every move, how alone were they really?

"I guess we all need to think a little more realistically, even me," Duo added, a soft wink in Heero's direction that he almost immediately regretted. Shit, it was a bad habit. He received nothing in response.

Wufei pointed a fork in the braided man's direction. "Especially you."

Duo suppressed the urge to stick his tongue out. How was it that this man was able to bring about his most immature impulses? It was that damn pointed sarcasm.

Before anything else could transpire their meals arrived and everyone seemed to be slightly relieved that their latest conversation was put on hold. Duo looked to Heero's face and saw that infinitely small trace of jealousy in the Prussian blue depths of his eyes. Just simple banter between himself and their Chinese counterpart seemed to stir something inside of Heero. Damn, noticing that possessiveness never seemed to get old. And yet, there was something just slightly unnerving about it.

The more he thought about it the more Duo's teeth were set on edge. Lately they had been fine, if not more than fine. But he knew things wouldn't be able to always be solved by great sex.

He decided to focus on the food before him, chewing quietly, not looking up again throughout the duration of the meal.

* * *

The small hotel suite they were now sharing had been almost stifling after the seriousness of their dinner time conversation. But the events that had transpired lately were enough to allow all five men the welcomed relief of sleep as soon as their heads collectively hit their pillows.

The faint sound of a computerized beeping was what awoke Duo from his slumber. It was coming from the laptop sitting on the coffee table in front of Wufei's rousing form. Heero was already halfway there, stretching the taught muscles in his arms, sitting cross legged on the floor and pulling the computer open with ease. It was almost odd to see him acting so casually, sitting in a lax way that Duo usually did.

Wufei spoke, saying something to Heero as he sat up on his makeshift bed; it was too soft for Duo to make out from his current position.

Quatre and Trowa were up now, untwining themselves from their sleeping embrace. For a split second Duo found himself feeling another quiet pang of jealousy; they were moving again in such succinctness. He shook his head and padded forward, joining Heero on the floor, for whatever internal reason careful not to actually make skin contact with him.

That look of possession had not seemed to drain from his expression all evening long.

Not a word was spoken and that was okay because the five seemed to have an understanding that did not require any verbiage. They sat with bated breath, almost as if they knew exactly what to expect from the early morning wake-up. Fuck, call it fatalistic intuition.

Heero opened the message, turning the laptop slightly so every one of them had some sort of view of what appeared to be a video that was popping up on the glowing screen.

There was no sound. Only dark and grainy footage of the five of them sitting around the table earlier that day, eating, probably making the implied casual conversation that a group of old friends should make. An ordinary fucking scene.

It made Duo's stomach sour, yet still no one spoke. _How does the saying go? _Duo thought wryly; A fucking pin would have been heard if he'd had one to drop.

An image replaced the film. Five pictures of them from the war, impossibly young and determined reflections of their now matured and more knowledgable selves. Corresponding with each was a photograph of men they hadn't seen since the war. The odd, lettered names of each typed below their faces, glowing on the screen with knowing looks on their aged expressions.

And then a typed message appeared on the screen.

** Five gone. But what of the sixth?**


	16. It's A Livin' Thing

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, and mild adult themes.

**A/N:** Well, my hiatus is finally coming to a close, still no general promises on quick updates, but I am back! Thank you for your continued support with reviews, favs, and follows, it's much appreciated. Hopefully this chapter will make up for the last few update-less weeks. Leave a review to let me know if it does! Also, I may have gotten carried away with the clothing and appearance descriptions in this chapter. So sue me, I want the boys to look a little sexy. Enjoy.

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 16: It's A Livin' Thing, It's A Terrible Thing To Lose**

_It's A Living Thing - Electric Light Orchestra _

The man in a dark blue suit sitting in his car dialed his phone with rather bored fingers.

"They appear to have received the message. They're up and moving at least. Haven't left the hotel yet." He spoke the words in a monotone as if to portray how little he cared about the situation he was currently reporting on or else just how tired he was seeing as how it was the middle of the night. But it was a job, wasn't it? Better paying than the one he currently had at that.

"Do they suspect?" his boss inquired.

He shrugged unnecessarily. "No way of knowing that."

"Gut feeling?"

"Yes, I'd say they're getting warmer at least."

"Alright. It's time to make our first move."

* * *

"The message originated on L2-V08744." Heero frowned as his fingers flew across the laptop's keyboard, the screen causing his eyes to glow a lighter blue than usual. "Specifically a place called _Vingt Et Un_."

Quatre's lips turned down in a matching scowl. He looked down at the files sitting on the table before them. "It's beginning to make sense. According to my research Menta Rolland is employed there, so our earlier plans were somewhat on the mark."

Trowa crossed his arms, leaning backwards on the couch. "We can only hope."

"Vingt Et Un?" Duo scowled, swallowing uneasily and trying to hold back the memories of his home colony.

"Twenty-one," Heero translated, still not looking up from his screen.

Duo turned his eyes to Quatre, his brows raising, searching for a better answer.

"It's a...hotel," the petite man responded, breaking eye contact. Somehow Duo felt the man was being less than truthful with him, but he decided not to press it at the moment. Too many other fucking things were attacking his subconscious at the moment.

"How could there be another scientist without any of us knowing about it?" The previously mentioned subconscious attacks were now bubbling so close to the surface he couldn't help but letting that particular question run free from his mouth. He never was much for using his filter. Now Duo could feel his body tensing, the realization that some of their questions might finally be answered. But shit, this was not what he had been expecting.

"There was a time where none of us knew there were even five scientists other than our own mentors. It makes sense what with Preventer's 'DNA replication' theory. Clearly nothing's impossible," Wufei answered, not making eye contact and scowling blankly down at the coffee table before him.

"So, to the beautiful L2 sector then?" Duo said with a harsh, sardonic laugh.

Brows furrowing, Quatre responded, "When was the last time you've been to L2, Duo?"

He winced briefly and then gave a derisive snort. "It's been awhile. I'm not _that_ much of a masochist to go back just for the hell of it." That received him a chastising look from Heero that made him smirk. But hell, on the inside he did slightly regret his choice in words. Not the best thing to say around someone so fucking concerned with his mental and physical wellbeing.

Quatre's frown deepened, suddenly very serious. "It's become quite a different place over the last several years since the war. Not much good comes out of there," he said with a heavy sigh. Then he eyed his friend and added. "No offense."

Duo shrugged. "None taken. No one ever said I was good, eh? Besides I haven't called L2 'home sweet home' for almost a decade now."

The air around them had suddenly become thick with uncomfortable tension. For a moment Duo regretted acting so nonchalant, but it was the only way he felt he could reasonably handle the idea of actually going back to a colony that had spit him out none-too-gently so many years ago.

"Vingt Et Un is a hotel," Quatre proceeded to explain again, though no one had prompted him to. "It's also a casino, L2 being the only sector to legalize gambling in the Earth Sphere. Though, from what I understand, much of what goes on there is not within the realm of legality."

Duo snorted, shaking his head. "Of course not," he mumbled. Shit, nothing on L2 had ever been in the 'realm of legality,' as Quatre had so graciously put it.

"We'll need some form of security," Heero muttered, his eyes finally flicking up to meet Wufei's for a brief moment of understanding.

The Preventer nodded, acknowledging the statement to assume that Heero meant more than just new identification and papers. "I can procure some firearms, most likely Glocks. Nothing fancy, considering I've technically been placed on some sort of bullshit leave."

Duo glanced up, curious as to why Wufei had withheld such information, but smarter than to pry, knowing the man hadn't bothered in explaining that getting booted from the case had seemingly morphed into a 'bullshit leave' for a reason. He was probably more pissed at Une than the lot of them. Understandable enough.

Quatre pursed his lips. "That'll have to do. Along with the arms we already possess."

"I enjoy the Glock 19, personally." Duo huffed out, giving Wufei a sly look from the corner of his eyes to see if he had gotten any sort of rise out of the man. He failed miserably.

Trowa rolled his eyes beneath shrouding bangs. "I like anything that works," he added under his breath, causing Duo's attention to be diverted.

"The Glock 19 holds fifteen rounds."

Trowa almost smiled. "I haven't had fifteen people after me all at once since the war."

Duo shrugged. "Could happen."

"We'll need new clothing as well," Quatre interrupted, clearly ready to move on with the conversation. The strategist within him calculating every move they were about to make in the next leg of their somewhat vigilante investigation.

Both Heero and Duo glanced down at their attire, the only two to do so, and it made the braided man smile uneasily, realizing that maybe he wasn't the only one who felt self-conscious in front of the other former pilots. Of course, knowing Heero Yuy, he figured the adorably confused look on his features merely represented the idea that clothing was not the most important issue at hand. But they were dealing with Quatre the idealist after all.

"Don't worry about that," Quatre continued, brandishing a rectangular platinum plated cellular phone that looked much too expensive for Duo to even touch. The blond tapped across the glass screen and then put the phone to his ear, getting up to remove himself from the group, while not actually exiting their cramped living quarters. After a few silent seconds he began speaking in low, fast Arabic. Always the man with fuckin' connections, Duo figured.

"So...predictions for what we're up against?" Duo directed the question towards Wufei, but the query was really meant to be a general filler for the now quiet group.

Wufei shook his head and smiled grimly, his eyes flicking from stoic green, to harsh blue, and finally to curious indigo.

"Yeah. A bunch of gluttonous fat cats binging on L2 vices and a stalker we know nothing about who may or may not be trying to kill us, replicate us, or just fuck with our heads until we crack under the pressure." His own eyes glowed with cynical mirth.

Duo shuttered under the black orb's eery gaze. "Shit, 'Fei, never took you for such a glass half empty kind of guy."

For once that evening, Duo was the only one _not_ smirking at his own sarcasm.

* * *

They opted for a private shuttle, mainly due to the ever important option of carrying their own weapons aboard. Preventer was out of the question now, so it all had rested on Quatre's shoulders which didn't seem to be much of a problem. Old Winner money and all.

"I can't help feeling we're being led to slaughter," Duo muttered. He shook his head, watching the tarmac fly past his vision as their shuttle landed, trying his best not to think about just where they had landed. "Fuckin' proverbial lambs."

"Don't sound so optimistic," Quatre muttered from the seat next to his friend, shaking his head with a congenial smirk.

Duo sighed, unable to even find humor in the petite man's sarcasm. He'd been trying to be optimistic, hell he never was one for finding the silver lining, but dammit he'd been trying. None of his endeavors lately seemed to be making much progress.

Heero tipped his head, as if he might have had an inkling to grin, and uncrossed his jean clad legs, leaning forearms on his knees. It was as if he was trying to get closer to Duo, who had chosen the seat opposite him, needing desperately to close that physical space between them. But the braided man knew better than to think that; he'd already come to the conclusion that forced optimism was not his forte.

"Gambling revenues on L2 are close to seven billion dollars a year. The definition of irrational behavior," Heero stated shaking his head in disbelief, sounding like that good old, too smart for his own good, naively lost boy from the war.

Duo let out a throaty chuckle. "That's just human nature, Heero. Everyone wants to be the big winner."

Heero sat back, for some reason oddly satisfied by his companion's response, and they were silent again as the shuttle continued its slow trek to the terminal.

* * *

They got another rental car, because shit if they were being followed and watched was a taxi really gonna make a difference? Heero drove and Duo begrudgingly accepted the bitch seat in the back to let Wufei ride shotgun. He was still recovering from a 'traumatic experience' so it was the 'least he could do' Quatre had whispered to him with those damn, pleading eyes of his. Always trying to keep everybody happy.

So Duo sat with his arms folded across his chest as to not make any physical contact with Trowa or Quatre on either side of him and he stewed for a little while, but when they made their way closer to their destination his annoyance began to morph into curiosity.

The hotel, Vingt et Un, was huge, towering over the surrounding buildings with its seventy floor expanse, the roof looking as though it might come into dangerous contact with the colony's metallic sky above.

After Heero gave the valet the car keys and Quatre had placed a crisp twenty in the young man's hand, the five walked forward, entering the hotel through one of the ten tinted glass entrances that lined the building's front. Inside they walked through the lobby, the smell of cigar smoke and sound of chattering slot machines filling their senses immediately.

Duo eyed the marble pillars, fountains spewing over-chlorinated aqua water, and granite tile beneath his feet with a look of disgust. No wonder they made seven billion dollars a year, the place was a fucking behemoth of luxury and temptation.

"Expensive," he muttered, falling in step with Heero, the thought having become a natural reflex.

Heero gave him an unreadable expression, but said nothing in response.

Quatre checked in as the other four waited patiently, their eyes taking in every nook and cranny of the high ceilinged lobby. At this point, none of them could visibly relax, always on edge, always watching for anything suspicious, anyone looking or staring for a moment too long. Their initial surveys came up empty; shit luck as per usual.

When Quatre handed them their respective room keys they all agreed to go upstairs, freshen up, and then meet again in twenty minutes. Duo absently wondered if that would be enough time for a 'quickie.' Maybe he was coping again for their current circumstances with ill-placed internal humor, or maybe he was doing it for Quatre's sake, thinking that that was the underlying reason for not booking a suite big enough for them all to bunk together. Privacy was becoming well underrated amongst the five.

Either way, the thought made Duo smirk and admittedly made him feel a little better about their whereabouts and their mission, if you could even call it that.

Heero and Duo found their room on the twenty-third floor, while the others were above on the twenty-fourth. There was the familiar beep as Heero opened the door and it reminded Duo of all the other hotel rooms he'd been staying in lately, all too fucking nice for his tastes, like he might break something or spill on the perfectly white sheets.

Duo unceremoniously dumped his duffle bag on the floor at the foot of the queen sized bed (he was glad to see Quatre had been slightly less frivolous this time) while Heero placed his own bag precisely atop a triangular luggage rack near the flat screen television. That was the extent of their 'unpacking,' but just these little idiosyncrasies reminded Duo how truly different they were from each other.

Heero started to change without even a thought to dropping his pants in front of Duo's now watchful eyes. Yes, they were quite different from each other, but after a moment Duo followed his lead and began to root around his bag for one of the crisp, new dress shirts Quatre had graced them all with.

Duo's was a deep shade of lilac and he wrinkled his nose, recalling Quatre's teasing words along the lines of 'it'll bring out your eyes.' He was much more accustomed to wearing all black, occasionally a charcoal or navy blue if he was feeling particularly adventurous.

But he donned the shirt anyways and paired it with dark slacks that fit him a little too well. And even though he had his reservations about the color, after he rolled up the sleeves to expose his forearms and checked his appearance in the mirror he realized that maybe Quatre had been right. Damn, he looked hot.

But moments later, after he'd splashed some water on his face, re-braided his hair and carefully placed a handgun in the back of his slacks, he realized that the current confidence in his looks was no match for the feeling of heat that invaded his body when he laid eyes on Heero.

Quatre had apparently allowed him to stick with more conventional colors, maybe because he didn't have time to have a potentially deadly conversation, and maybe because he knew he could at least get away with it when it came to Duo.

An ebony dress shirt hugged the muscles of Heero's upper body, the collar unbuttoned to expose his tanned neck and collar bones appealingly. Silvery grey dress pants, that seemed to match Duo's own in style, curved against his lean legs in a way that made the other man's mouth run dry. The look was completed by a pair of shining black leather flat top dress shoes, a welcome change from his usual trainers and military grade boots.

"Fuck, 'Ro."

Duo hadn't realized his verbal gasp had been uttered out loud until he was met by a quirk of the Japanese man's thick brow.

Duo pursed his lips before scowling. "You got black," he said, gesturing to Heero's shirt.

Looking down at the article of clothing he was wearing Heero's lips twitched. He took a few steps forward to close the gap between them and ran a hand against the collar of Duo's own shirt, his fingers grazing against the sensitive skin of his neck for a sparking second.

"This color looks good on you."

Duo swallowed hard. "Thanks." His voice was nothing but a husky whisper. Maybe they still had time for that quickie.

But just as suddenly as Heero had approached him he was walking past him towards the door. Duo fought against an impulsive growl at the back of his throat; fucking frustrating man.

In the lobby they were the last to arrive. The other three turned as Heero and Duo walked towards them and he took in their appearances with appraising eyes. He wanted to laugh, as shit they were rather an attractive looking group when they tried to be.

Quatre, of course, was wearing a dusty blue shirt and khaki chinos and if it hadn't been for the navy blue blazer Duo would have thought he had travelled back to the man's younger years of fashion during the war.

Trowa, on the other hand, looked nothing like he had during the war, the expensive clothing suiting him in an oddly agreeable way. He too appeared to have gotten away with his preferred spectrum of colors, wearing jet black slacks and a silvery shirt that did nothing to hide his muscular frame. He mirrored Heero in opposite, like yin and yang, save for the skinny, sable tie hanging from his neck.

Finally Duo's eyes fell on Wufei who was wearing a strangely collarless shirt, olive green with cream trim under the buttons, curving around his neck where the collar would have been, paired with straight, coffee toned pants. It looked well on him and Duo might have even gone as far to say handsome.

"Damn, we clean up nice, huh?" he quipped upon arriving at their awaiting group of friends.

Trowa reached up to straighten-or maybe loosen?-his tie, the only response Duo received as Quatre was busy typing away at his phone and Wufei seemed to be flat out ignoring him.

After another brief and silent moment, Quatre took the lead and walked towards the hotel's casino. Their first, and only it seemed, plan of action being to seek out Menta Rolland, the general hope being that she wasn't dead and/or would be able to inform them of just what the hell had been going on lately.

They were being painfully optimistic again and it was hurting Duo's stomach to think about it too much.

As they made their way casually through the casino, passing under glowing crystal chandeliers, skirting around cocktail waitresses in tight black dresses, and viewing the general heir of debauchery around them, Duo couldn't help but notice just how wealthy it seemed everyone inside Vingt et Un was.

He could see now why their clothing and outward appearances had been such an intricate and important detail; the place seemed to cater specifically and singularly to the highest of high rollers. He was pretty sure he hadn't seen anything lower than a hundred dollar bill in the entire place so far.

They turned a corner, heading past a bustling looking Italian restaurant when Heero's cellphone started to ring. He picked up and Duo moved closer in an attempt to hear who was on the other line.

"Yuy," Heero answered abruptly.

"I'm calling to inform you of some new developments," Sean Davis stated, his tone cocky as ever.

Heero shrugged noncommittally. "We're off the case. No Preventer connection anymore."

This grabbed the other's attention, immediately realizing who was on the other end. Duo only leaned closer, picturing Heero pushing him away with his free hand, but surprisingly the other man allowed the physical closeness to endure.

Davis spoke again. "Affirmative. However, there have been some rather _disturbing_ developments."

This caused both Heero and Duo to stiffen simultaneously. "Go on," Heero prompted.

"Mizzerahi Ryland was picked up by Preventer earlier today. He's not dead, but he is in some sort of psychosomatic state," Davis explained. Duo began to relax, feeling that this was not the most disturbing thing he could have been informed of. The man continued. "As well, this morning the bodies of Matthew Rook and Michael Richardson were found to be missing."

Duo's body tensed again. Heero's brows furrowed. "Missing?"

"They were taken from a Preventer morgue. At this time we don't have any leads, but it was something that Une wanted you all aware of, even if you're not investigating anymore." There was a knowingness to his words, as if he truly felt stupid having to play the game and lie and pretend like he believed they weren't still acting on their own.

"Is that all?" Heero asked, sounding almost impatient, like this had truly been a huge waste of his time.

Davis said, "affirmative," and Heero hung up.

"Ryland is alive. Rook and Richardson's bodies are currently missing," Heero said in a deadened voice, relaying the message to the rest of his former teammates.

Duo rubbed the back of his head and looked to Quatre who had a slightly sickened look on his face. The more he thought about it, the more it sickened him too. Why would anyone want those seemingly random dead bodies? That was some creepy shit for sure-

But his rambling internal dialogue was broken off by the click of a three-position selector lever somewhere in the bustling casino behind him.

Uzi SMG. There was no doubt in his mind; that shit he knew.

Their lives as Gundam pilots might have lacked many things. Most of them never knew a normal childhood or the comfort of convention. They had never counted on anyone expect for themselves and maybe a few trustworthy beings along the way. There hadn't been time for discovering things, or making sense of things, or the basic rhythms of human nature, but when they all simultaneously heard the sound of the safety being slid back and no immediate stab of burning pain in their flesh the ex-pilots moved all at once, as if their superior instincts had been waiting for just such a problem to arise.

Heero used his right arm to shove Duo down just before the first bullet passed through the air where the center of their backs had just been.

The entirety of the casino went silent and slack jawed for a split second, just enough time for the five men to crouch behind some colorful slot machines, Heero and Duo mirrored by the other three across the aisle they had just been walking down.

Another spraying of bullets rang out, clipping off the metallic side of the device Trowa had been peeking around, throwing him backwards at the sound. And then the panic set in.

Screams drew up into the air above them, the sound of crashing chairs, smashing glassware, and running feet assaulting their ears. This elevated noise level was not helping their fucking chances of survival here. The only reason they were still alive in the first place was the telltale sound of the gun.

By now the five had retrieved their own guns, Glock 19's to Duo's genuine pleasure, from the respective hiding spots on their person. Another shot rang out, this time towards Heero, but amidst the running crowd none of them could place their attacker, their only clue being the seemingly steady stream of shots being leveled at their bunkering forms.

"Shit, there's five of us and only one of him, how the fuck-?" Duo's words were filled with shock as he gasped them out, more shots bouncing off an overturned chair not more than two inches away from him.

Heero grit his teeth. "They're not here to kill us."

Duo frowned, but understood immediately what his partner meant. If they had been wanted dead they certainly already would have been lying in pools of their own blood. This guy couldn't have been that bad of a shot.

Their minute conversation was broken off by the sound of the Uzi being pointed upwards and a gigantic crystal chandelier crashing hard to the ground below, where the group had been standing not more than a moment ago. The echoing sound had caused even more screams and panic to grow as guests were being herded to the exits and Duo wondered vaguely what kind of a place didn't have better security than this. But then he remembered what Quatre had said about L2; not much good seemed to be coming out at this particular juncture.

As the chandelier made its decent to the floor, Duo had caught a glimpse of a figure dressed in black and, despite the calming presence of Heero next to him, he charged into impulsive action.

His legs seemed to be moving faster than his brain, his fingers clicking the safety of his gun off as he ran, dodging the affluent guests he'd been previously eyeing. His shoulder barreled into a taller gentlemen, wearing a suit that probably cost more than Duo was worth, his eyes hot on the trail of the figure he'd committed to memory.

The sound of Heero's voice, strong and pissed, flooded into his ears from several long steps behind him. He was thankful for the backup, but had no time to turn around and actually listen to the man's words.

No, he fucking had him, he wasn't about to give that up.

He'd made it to the front entrance, pushing past a group of terrified women in floor length gowns without a second thought and dove through one of the glass doors which had been securely opened from the outside.

He didn't immediately feel the stinging sensation in his leg until a few more reckless steps took him toward a long line of beeping, angry taxi cabs. But then his eyes travelled down and were met with the sickening site of a lime green tinted dart, fucking feathers and all, even if they were plastic.

He didn't immediately feel the effects of whatever poison or drug was being introduced into his system as he decided that now would be as good a time as any to start listening to Heero. But then his vision was blurring and his muscles weakening to the point that his knees buckled violently, his palms barely able to combat the fall.

He didn't immediately register the feeling of fear that coursed through his veins as his body stopped responding or the rough hands he felt on his arms seconds after he'd fallen to his submissive, kneeling position. But he did remember the pleadingly enraged sound of Heero's voice calling after him in the casino seconds before and he wondered faintly if he'd be able to reach him in time to play the hero and rescue him like he always seemed to have to do.

But then his mind fogged over, the image of Heero's face being washed violently away and he succumbed to the darkness.


	17. Woke Up To That Familiar Feeling

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, and mild adult themes.

**A/N:** There is probably no reasonable excuse for my falling off the face of the planet. So instead of excuses I will just provide you with a Duo-centric chapter that may or may not make up for my absence. We'll see by the time you reach the cliffy at the bottom there. Read? Review?

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 17: Woke Up To That Familiar Feeling**

_Glass House - Atmosphere_

It was dark wherever he was, that much he could tell. Or maybe couldn't tell, considering it was pitch black and maybe his eyes weren't actually open and he was still unconscious, dead to the fucking world, as if it would be any great loss.

Duo shook his head trying to knock some of those derogatory thoughts from their precarious place at the precipice of his subconscious. He blinked a few times, the movement causing a splitting pain to form between his eyes like someone was pounding a nail into his skull.

What the fuck had happened? The last thing he remembered was beating through a crowd of overly dressed fat-cats clinging to their meaningless chips and then-

"Shit." His mouth felt like it had been packed with cotton. Whatever kind of knock-out drug he'd been inundated with had not been a kind one.

"_Shit_," he muttered again, this time more powerful, this time directly inward. What kind of an impulsive idiot goes chasing after the bad guy barely armed without backup?

_Right. This impulsive idiot. _Duo shook his head again, but the motion proved to be too much for his splitting head to endure and so he resorted to assessing for anymore damage, while laying as still as possible.

He was on a bed, more of a cot than anything, but nicer than some of the contraptions he'd slept on during the war. Hell, definitely much nicer than trying to curl up in the cockpit of 'Scythe. So he presumed the bed was more that of convenience than a prison, but the fact that there seemed to be no source of light did not discount the idea that he was most likely being held here- wherever _here_ was- against his will.

Next Duo attempted to flex his muscles, checking for any immediate injury or restraint. He flicked his fingers and brought his right arm up, there was nothing attached to his wrists and though his muscles were rather sore, he could not sense anything keeping him from removing himself from the oddly comfortable bed.

So very slowly, _very slowly_, as his skull screamed at him to stop the jarring movement, Duo sat up, bracing his weight with the heels of his hands and slid his legs over the edge, his feet connecting with a cold, vinal floor.

His brows furrowed, this lent more to the assumption that he was being held in some kind of cell, but somehow his subconscious couldn't quite agree to the notion. Something was definitely off.

His feet, he realized after a heartbeat of thought, were bare and it appeared, by what he could feel hanging against his skin, that he was not dressed in the clothing Quatre had previously bestowed upon him on L2. No, these garments were stiff and oddly paper-like, perhaps scrubs of some sort, he couldn't be sure without something to illuminate them with.

Fuck, this was not good. Was he in a hospital facility? The image of mad scientists and surgeons bludgeoning a near unrecognizable corpse with bloody scalpels and meat cleavers flew across his mind for a brief moment.

But he was still alive, mostly in tact from what he could tell, maybe a little light-headed, but not restrained, not drugged- anymore at least- and not being monitored. That last part he wasn't one hundred percent on, but unless his captors were watching him through foggy green night-vision he figured there probably weren't cameras vid-feeding black nothingness.

Duo took a breath and pushed upwards to stand. He wobbled once, getting his bearings, and then quickly realized how disorienting the darkness around him actually was. Without the contact of his body to the bed the only thing grounding him was the coldness seeping into the pads of his feet and even then it seemed as if he couldn't quite distinguish up from down. The sensation of floating through space assaulted his skin. Yes, this was damn disorienting.

In order to make his head stop spinning, though the painful throbbing had decided to die down a bit to his relief, Duo stepped forward, hands loosely held in front of him, waiting for impact. When he'd taken three short steps his fingers came into contact with a wall textured with peeling wallpaper. He used the surface to guide his movements to the right, stopping when he hit the adjoining wall; that had taken him a total of four steps. Along that wall his knee finally came back into contact with the bed, a bit harder than he would have liked.

"Dammit," Duo cursed under his breath, before feeling along the bed's frame. It was pushed up against the opposite wall, leading him to believe the width of the room could be no more than five or six feet.

He scuffled along then back towards the middle of the bed where he'd earlier began his investigation. From there he measured his steps until his hands once again found a wall, the fourth and final wall of his new home.

So he was in a box. Maybe six by eight feet, maybe less for all he knew. That was just fucking great. A box that appeared to have no windows or doors-

A smile graced his lips. "Bingo," he purred as his fingers played at a small, metallic notch in the wall he'd been recently inspecting. He pulled back and then pushed forward, trying to identify its function, and then finally pulled to his right and received the outcome he was looking for.

It was a pocket door, one that appeared to be constructed into the wall hidden beneath the decrepit wallpaper. He wriggled it open wider, pushing it into its hiding place, to allow a sliver of glowing light to knife into the room.

For a moment Duo hesitated, unsure of what he might find once he stepped out of his room. Was he a prisoner or what? Why had he been dressed in such a way that made him feel like a mental patient? And what was the deal with this puzzle of a room?

Duo resigned himself to the thought that his questions would remain unanswered if he did not venture out into the unknown. The door hadn't been locked, he hadn't been restrained, it appeared for all intents and purposes that he had free range of whatever kind of place he'd been dropped into since his, for lack of a better word, _abduction_.

When he poked his head out of the thin doorway Duo found his pupils fighting to constrict in the new source of light. He looked left and right down the long, silent corridors of a hallway illuminated by weak florescent bulbs overhead. It reminded him remotely of the Alliance hospital he'd found Heero in how many years before. Damn, that seemed like an infinitely long time ago now.

His feet padded along the tile floor as he crept down the hall in search of- well he wasn't sure what he was searching for exactly, but when he found whatever it was it would probably be beneficial to the escape plan he was mentally scrambling to formulate. Duo felt unusually vulnerable with his feet unprotected and his clothing, now undoubtably a pair of aqua-green scrubs, affording him absolutely no protection or camouflage.

He walked for what he assumed was several long, quiet minutes, twisting and turning and getting himself completely lost within the maze of what he could only assume was, in fact, a hospital. Or at least it used to be a hospital.

As he rounded another corner a patter of noise pricked at his ears and alerted him to an abandoned nurse's station. There were no fingers clicking along the dusty keyboard like he'd expected to see, instead his eyes caught a flash of black as a healthy looking rat scurried across the floor and underneath a bench, its slick upholstery shredded and mildewed.

Duo found himself wrinkling his nose at the sight. Hadn't been up close with one of those since his days on the streets of L2. It did not bring back any pleasant memories.

Deciding to forgo his venture, this floor proving to be desolate and useless to him, Duo found the nearest exit into a stairwell that was only lit by a few flickering bulbs every other landing or so. In the dimness as he made his way down to the next level below his own- he'd discovered to have been sneaking about the building's fifth floor- he again had the feeling of insecurity as his bare feet touched the cement with each step, careful to watch for more unwanted vermin or an ill-placed scalpel from his earlier gruesome reverie.

When he arrived at the fourth floor, Duo realized that a scalpel or some form of weaponry might not be a bad thing to come across in the end after all. Shinigami could fight, maim, even fucking kill without being the least bit armed, but hell he was kind of out of practice in the kill category, though Duo would rather die than admit that deficiency to his fellow comrades.

_Damn_. Why'd his mind have to jump to that particular thought? Duo wondered forward, closing the heavy stairwell door silently behind him, realizing that he wasn't even sure how long he'd been unconscious for. How many hours or days had he been missing in action? What steps would Heero take to find him? And what steps would Wufei take in order to stop the Perfect Soldier from simply killing every innocent being standing in his way?

A brief and oddly amusing image of Heero Yuy cuffed to a chair and fighting tooth and nail against the honorable Preventer Chang while Quatre fretted and cooed and Trowa stood simply watching, eyes in a permanent roll, assaulted his subconscious.

Duo shook bangs from his face and wiped the growing smirk off his face. Now was not the time to be thinking of such things. Now was the time for action and answers. Which he might have been able to achieve if not for the fact that the whole damn bloody hospital seemed to _definitely_ be abandoned save for his scrawny ass wondering about in total befuddlement.

"Assholes," Duo grumbled, deciding wholeheartedly that no matter who it was who had shot him, drugged him, and thrown him into this stupid abyss were going to meet their maker when he finally caught up with them. If he could fucking find them- find _anyone_.

He made a lap and then finally came across an embankment of windows surrounding what once was some kind of waiting room. Duo wiped against some grime on one of the panes, but was unable to make out much from his surroundings. Just as he'd awoken to, the world outside this building appeared to be pitch black, the colony clearly in the middle of its night-cycle. That was, if he was still even on L2 anymore. But there was a feeling, a hellish clawing at the back of his mind taunting him, telling him that he was very much still on his former home colony, much to his pleasure. He could fucking handle a little L2, all that mattered now was finding his way out of this damn haunted hull of a hospital.

Duo made his way back towards the stairwell, determined to get the hell out and not look back. He was careful, but not as careful as before as he made his way down each level. By the time he'd made it to the first floor he found himself out of breath. He chalked it up to fatigue and whatever fucking drug had been pumped into his system outside Vingt et Un.

There was a lobby on the first floor that boasted a tall, long since extinguished, gas fireplace smack in the middle of the entryway, surrounded by several reception desks covered in yellowing papers and a thick layer of dust. There were several candelabra chandeliers above his head, burnt out now, but still fairly elegant for that of a simple hospital. Duo wondered vaguely how such an establishment came to be abandoned in the first place.

By the time Duo reached the lobby's main entrance, his desire for freedom had reached a boiling point. Several thick chains wrapped the double door's handles, padlocked by something ancient looking that actually required a key to open. Duo chewed angrily at his thumb nail. He could pick the fucking antiquated lock- _most likely_. He could find something to smash through the glass doors- _maybe_. He could find another exit- _probably_.

For some irritating reason that Duo could not identify there was a nudging feeling at the nape of his neck as if this was not destined to be where he ended his stay in this damn cage. His eyes flicked to his left to be met with another door, metallic like those of the stairwell. He sighed as his feet began to automatically move toward the new, unexplored section of the hospital.

The door led to another set of stairs, though these only went down towards what he could only assume was the basement. His feet grew exponentially colder and more vulnerable as he ventured downwards taking each step one at a time. There were lights, but it was dim and gray and musty.

"If I were an individual taunting and stalking ex-Gundam pilots," Duo mumbled to himself, eyes keen on his new surroundings. "Where would I set up shop?"

He grinned to himself, realizing the appropriate answer might very well be closer than he was comfortable with. His vision scanned the wall next to him where a large black painted arrow pointed forward down the shadowy hall. Beneath the arrow in capital print read: Morgue.

_Great. Shinigami visiting a morgue. No problem there. _Duo shrugged his shoulders and pushed down on his thumbs until the joints popped. There probably weren't any dead bodies left, why would there be if the place had long since been forgotten?

Duo walked on and swallowed once when he got to the door. It opened easily, the hinges squeaking only slightly, showing their age and wear and tear. His nose was violated by a faint smell of formaldehyde and his skin was accosted by the now even colder temperature the room's thermostat was apparently set to. It was growing abundantly clear that this portion of the hospital had been in use fairly recently.

Duo's eyes swept across the morgue, its back wall lined with metallic doors, all sealed shut, the floor beneath his feet was an ominous red, and in the middle of the room were two stainless steel examination tables. Dead bodies and all.

Brows furrowed, Duo made his way cautiously towards the bodies, which were wrapped in white sheets, but held no identification tag around their toes._ Rook and Richardson's bodies are currently missing. _The memory of Heero's voice burned through his thoughts. Fucking hell.

It took a mere lift of the sheet on the first body and the recognition of a clean bullet hole through the man's skull for Duo to realize where those bodies had ended up.

His eyes scanned the tables. Tucked between them in the space between each body's stiff arms was a small stack of papers. Duo snatched them up, skimming over the documents. They were some form of admittance papers or data charts that labeled the bodies both as 'John Doe: AB' and 'John Doe: O' respectively. Someone had signed for them as the primary care physician simply with the initials M.P.

_M.P._? Not M.R.? Duo was about to pocket the documents, his interest and confusion both peaking, when the scraping sound of the door being pused further open caused his muscles to tense and his fingers to search for a weapon that wasn't there.

"Mr. Maxwell, you should be in bed." It was a woman speaking to him, petite and blonde and dressed in pink scrubs similar to his own. She smiled sweetly, but the action only caused his frown to deepen. This was certainly a new and mind-fucking development.

"I'm sorry," he drawled, voice deep and uncertain. "But just where the hell am I exactly?"

She ignored his question with clinical sharpness. "The doctor will see you soon. But for now you should be resting."

Duo pursed his lips. His mind felt fuzzy; this was getting fucking old already. Where had this woman even come from in the first place?

"Listen lady, I don't know who you are, but I'm pretty fucking sure you can't keep me here against my will. This place is probably condemned-"

"You're our guest here, Mr. Maxwell," she countered, the interruption curt and accompanied by another smile.

Duo squinted. "Yeah, I feel like a regular high roller over here."

"I don't want to sedate you, but I will if necessary."

"Sedate?" Duo quirked an eyebrow, mentally calculating his next move. The woman was small, the door was roughly three yards from his current position and there was a jar of fermenting old tools he could incorporate into a distraction. "Is that what's in those fun little green knock-out darts? A sedative?"

She studied him with a neutral expression. Duo managed to angle his feet towards the door, his hands forming fists, steadying himself to pounce. But he hadn't accounted for the second body entering the room behind the doll-like nurse.

Duo had already flung forward, grabbing ahold of the glass jar and hurling it towards the nurse's pristine tennis-shoes, skirting around her astonished expression, and bulldozing straight into the waiting arms of a second nurse, a male nurse, a fucking behemoth of a male nurse.

His reflexes still indistinctly off since awakening from his forced slumber, Duo found himself wrapped up and then pushed forward and finally unbalanced to the point of floundering before meaty arms were slipping under his own lean limbs to pull him up into what he could only equate as a weakened version of a full nelson.

"Get the fuck off!"

He flexed his muscles only to find the sensation of a pin prick in his arm much more palpable against his tense tendons. Duo didn't black out like he had upon receiving the green dart in his leg, but his body went slowly limp and his vision blurred momentarily as he felt himself propelled upward and over the nurse's shoulder like nothing more than a disobedient child.

_Maybe I'm dreaming,_ he thought wryly to himself as his eyelids shut and he listened to the man's shoes echoing loudly down the basement hallway the image of Richardson's deadened eyes staring up at him from the morgue table without sympathy.

Duo could feel the rustle of folded documents against the skin of his hip with the man's every movement.


	18. Figure Out What's Real & What's Pretend

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, and mild adult themes.

**A/N:** Hey look at that, a somewhat normal update! I absolutely want to hear what you think at this current juncture as the plot starts to thicken. Read? Review?

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 18: Figure Out What's Real &amp; What's Pretend**

_Home - Nine Inch Nails_

It had been little over one hour since the attack and Duo's apparent abduction according to the watch strapped to Wufei's wrist. Just enough time for Preventer to have the place taped off, interviewing overtly emotional witnesses, and creating quite a buzz with the local media.

The four remaining ex-pilots stood within the shadows of the immense building, watching carefully as a young Preventer painstakingly interviewed a long line of cocktail waitresses, their scantily clad tuxedo-like uniforms entirely out of place next to the navy suit of the agent. The woman who was next in line, her reddish hair cropped clean above her shoulders, examining her fingernails with boredom was, according to Quatre, the woman they had gone to all this trouble to speak with. Menta Rolland.

So far, it had taken every fiber of their collective beings not to rush at the nearest Preventer, flash a badge, some form of identification, or a damned Glock in their face and demand immediate investigation as to just what had happened to their impulsive comrade. But, they were not supposed to be there- meddling, tampering, getting into trouble- and so, for the 'integrity of the mission,' they found themselves waiting, tense and uneasy.

Heero had scoured the entire property with a fine tooth comb, as close as he could get with the ever roaming Preventer force, but had come up empty. He'd recently joined them in the shadows, something unnerving about the blankness of his features, something the others hadn't seen since the war some time ago.

"The casino is just a cover perhaps?" Trowa murmured.

They'd since been biding their time and hiding their anxiety through thinly veiled conversation in regards to the investigation. Figuring shit out seemed to be the only thing they could attempt to do in regards to finding Duo at the moment anyways. So far, they weren't getting very far.

"Using a casino as a cover for something more substantially illicit? Isn't that a bit, I don't know, _clichéd_?" Wufei brushed it off, irritation radiating off of him in waves. It was something that Duo might have said- _definitely_ would have said- if he'd been there himself to do so.

Trowa frowned back. "Regardless of that then, it all seems to boil back down to Heero's replica."

"Does Winner Corp ever dabble in DNA research?" Wufei shot the question towards Quatre who had yet to contribute much to the speculatory discussion. It seemed he was wrapped up in his own mind, strategizing perhaps, or else over-thinking and deconstructing the entirety of the case like Wufei felt he was about to start doing any second.

"We do not 'dabble' in things, we invest in things," he responded sharply. "Recently we have been surveying the colonies for a health care renewal program. Taking hospitals previously used during the war, refurbishing them and opening them to the general public's needs. To my knowledge, that's about as close to DNA as we get."

Wufei sighed. "But the funding-"

"_To my knowledge_." Quatre gave him a pointed look, uncharacteristically annoyed at the man's brashness. "Besides, that funding request has got to be under-the-table. It's not logged anywhere in the Winner Corp servers."

That prompted a grunt from Heero. His body was hidden furthest in the shadows, leaning against the building's stone exterior, arms folded over his chest, hiding any concern with stoic silence. "Then how did the media get ahold of such information?"

Quatre's shoulders slumped in response. "You're guess is as good as mine right now."

Wufei was about to ask another question that would probably send the conversation back down its invariable spiral when the flick of Trowa's attention towards a woman walking their way caused him to abruptly shut his mouth.

Quatre was the closest to her as she passed by and out of the four of them probably the most likely not to get kicked in the groin for approaching the woman with impending need for a private conversation and so he took up a natural smile and silently accepted his duty.

"Excuse me, Ms. Rolland?" His voice was beyond charming, his eyes wide and curious.

Menta turned at her name, clearly not having expected anyone to address her in such a way, considering their current whereabouts. She paused, eyeing him up and down with little emotion. When her vision finally met his own again she did not appear impressed.

"Yeah?" Her tone was icy and she narrowed her eyes.

For some uncertain reason her hostility caused the vein in Wufei's forehead to protrude. He found himself advancing out of the background to join Quatre, a strangled sound from Trowa and the feeling of Heero's fingers reaching for his bicep not stopping him from his trek forward.

At this new movement Menta's eyes flickered to Wufei and then to Heero and Trowa and then back to Quatre, the orbs having grown slightly with every next glance. She opened her mouth to speak, her hard demeanor visibly melting, and then closed it again, a sense of panic coming over her features. Menta stared at them all again, now together as a complete package, and she shook her head almost infinitesimally, almost as if she recognized them, incredulous.

"We just need a moment of your time." Wufei stepped forward, Preventer protocol coming through his words now. Menta looked like she might up and bolt full speed the other direction and he had to work fast with the damage control. She was some semblance of a suspect after all.

But then she was moving towards him, grabbing ahold of his forearm and moving her lips close to his ear. "Listen, I can't talk here," she hissed, her eyes scanning the surroundings as if expecting to find a sniper leveling a rifle at her head. "But I might be able to help- if you know where to find me."

She then proceeded to thrust a small card into Wufei's palm and turned on her heel so fast none of the men could get another word in, as if they even knew what to say in return.

When Wufei looked down at the card a hot, scarlet blush assaulted his milky skin. It was the size of a business card, but lacked the appropriate classic lettering or simple name and address. Instead an image of a woman, clad in nothing more than a bikini two times too small for her curvaceous form was plastered across the front.

As his companions gathered to stare down at the card he gripped furiously between pointer and thumb, Wufei tried to hide his fluster by flipping the photo to find the more pertinent information, an address to a nearby 'gentleman's club' and its hours of operation.

When he'd finally looked up from the card, fighting furiously to regain composure, he caught the tail end of a smirk from Trowa and Quatre was stifling a laugh from behind raised fingers. Heero stared blankly at him which somehow only seemed to make him feel worse.

"Let's go," Wufei bit out, storming past Trowa who did nothing to stop the other man from pushing into his arm with his shoulder as he passed by.

The taller man followed, Quatre and Heero bringing up the rear. Trowa raised an eyebrow. "I guess we have some time to kill. Need a cold shower before tonight, Chang?"

Wufei chose discretionally to ignore the man's chiding. He'd just been surprised to be handed such an indecent advertisement, that was all. He clenched his teeth as they approached the valet stand, pushing through a group of Preventers none of them recognized, though still keeping their heads down.

He certainly did not appreciate Trowa apparently feeling the need to take over in the absence of Duo's one-liners, dry as his own brand of humor seemed to be. _Dammit, Maxwell, why did you have to go and get yourself kidnapped?_

* * *

Duo's vision cleared before his musculatory functions came back to him and that sensation of helplessness irritated him more than the fact that he had counted the ceiling tiles four times over now, but still could not quite make out the row hovering precariously just above where his eyes could see. There were thirty-two for the record, though three of the small tiles were conspicuously missing.

His nerve endings tingled and he could sense that he was yet again not restrained, though whatever sedative he'd been given this time had seriously fucked with his mind and body. He'd been forced into some sort of limbo where his ears could still decipher the sounds of feet scuffling nearby, doors closing, and the faint sound of his own breathing. But up until now he hadn't even had the strength to open his eyes. He was damn well ready to kill the first person he could get his hands on- when he could actually get the muscles in his hands to move that is.

He allowed himself to lay in silence for a few more moments, trying not to concentrate on the constricting sensation he could feel about his chest as if his lungs might stop working at any second. Hell, he had a new appreciation for quadriplegics, the war having left many more of them in this world than one might think. It wasn't unusual to see a wheelchair bound veteran from time to time, on Earth or in the colonies. Duo's stomach soured just thinking about it.

Duo counted the tiles again. There were still thirty-two in his line of sight. But he'd since noticed a pins and needles sensation that had begun to flow from the tips of his fingers upwards into his hands; slowly his capability of movement was coming back to him.

His mind twitched cruelly to the thoughts he'd been wrestling with since his unwanted sedation. The image of Michael Richardson's face, still somewhat contorted in rigor mortis, though his eyes had been chastely closed to the living world around him, played on repeat over the projectors in Duo's memory. Why were those bodies here- in this still unknown place- with _him_? Rook and Richardson, but not the others from the list? Was there more odd death yet for him to discover? And why had these M.R.'s been so brutally assassinated in the first place?

The questions swam through Duo's mind like a panicked school of fish trying to evade an imminent predator. He wondered vaguely if Heero had ever felt this same amount of confusion and paranoia in his lifetime. He wondered how the man had dealt with the stresses of being the 'Savior of Earth,' realizing he knew so little about that time in his companion's life- it was his own fucking fault of course, what with running and hiding and all, but still he oftentimes wondered.

Heero seemed so capable, so headstrong, so single-minded. Consequently that's what made his missions so smooth, so handled, so thought-out. But there had to be a chink in that armor somewhere. Wufei, Trowa, Quatre, they all had their share of faults. But where was Heero's hiding? He thought he'd seen it somewhere before, the memory of naked bodies intertwined, hot, angry, pounding together with the thrill of teenage hormones and the need for release fueling their movements. Had Heero been as vulnerable then as Duo had felt?

For a moment he thought that a wave of jealously had washed over him, but realized he'd mistook the sensations of muscles coming back to life as an emotion he had only felt sparingly throughout life, if ever. Jealousy was gratuitous, unnecessary, it simply weighed one down, especially on the streets, a backwater colony, or when wielding a giant machine of death, Gundam or not.

Just as Duo was concentrating on extending and constricting his fingers in an attempt to form fists the sudden sound of beeping machines filtered into the air, muffled somewhat, telling him that wherever the noise was located, it wasn't in this room with him.

* * *

It was hard to tear themselves away from the impending sense of doom that seemed to loom over them in the form of some sort of disgruntled and beaten down shinigami creature of omniscience. Duo Maxwell was gone, but the feeling still lingered, and all they could do was sit about and twiddle their thumbs and pretend not to be biding their time right under Preventer's watchful nose.

The colony's night cycle had begun nearly an hour before but they'd waited, begrudgingly forced themselves to eat some sort of sustenance three blocks down from their final destination, and then had made the trek slowly towards the club that Menta Rolland had so abruptly directed them to. It was tastefully titled 'The Penthouse Club' and the cursive lettering was lit in purple neon.

They sat in the car for a few moments, staring at the building, perhaps working up some sort of game-plan, though Quatre had been relatively quiet on the strategy front over dinner. Instead, they'd chosen to discuss some possible motives in-line with their case, though the amount of mindless speculation had put Wufei in a bad mood nearly from the start.

"They were trying to separate us. Maybe waiting for someone to storm out after a prefabricated argument or one of us to up and leave the investigation altogether," Quatre had suggested, eyeing the others for input.

"Duo. They were trying to separate Duo from the rest of us," Heero had said, his face as unreadable as it had been since their comrade's disappearance.

Trowa had chosen to counter. "Then why bring us together in the first place?"

"It may be a surprise to you, but Duo Maxwell is a rather impossible person to find and keep tabs on," Wufei had reluctantly added with a nearly indistinguishable sneer of sarcasm.

"So they were using Preventer to pull him out of the shadows? Whoever it was needed a valid reason for his resurface." Trowa's response had hung heavily in the air between them.

The thought hadn't warranted more of an explanation. Heero had frowned and Wufei had transparently attempted not to make the eye contact he'd wanted to. Duo had only agreed to help because it was _Heero's_ body which had been found dead, dropped in the middle of nowhere.

Quatre had shrugged. "Maybe they weren't trying to separate us. Maybe things went awry, they saw an opening and took it. For all we know, it could have been any of us if they'd had the chance."

And with that Wufei had bit off the cyclical discussion. "_Maybe_. But there are way too many 'maybes' floating around this conversation for my taste."

It had grown to become just another dead-end dialogue adding to the ever growing pile of questions and theories stored amongst their collective minds.

But by the time they'd all managed to pull themselves from their vehicle, allow their eyes to sift through their new surroundings, still on high alert for unwanted eyes and ears, Wufei had packed away his earlier distaste for their back-and-forth in lieu of what was next on their ever-convoluted agenda.

Quatre had, almost in hindsight, suggested that Trowa take the lead on this one. The man holding an uncanny ability to charm his way in and out of any situation, taking on a persona that left his other companions constantly wondering where 'Trowa Barton' began and his other personalities left off. He was easily the most unruffled of the four, including Heero, and it had already been unfortunately proven that perhaps this would not be where Wufei's strong suits currently lied, as difficult as that had been to swallow.

Barton was the right choice though. They'd get their information, it would be efficient, in-and-out, no complications. That was the best case scenario, but realistically Wufei understood it would probably end up being the worst, what with their recent track record.

They entered with an air of false bravado which was quickly snuffed out by the dark lights, smokey air, and thumping hum of indiscernible music coming from speakers placed strategically near the doorway to draw the customers inward.

Wufei took in his new surroundings with eyes of an agent, clinical and calculating. The walls were cinder blocks painted a dark plum to hide their roughness. The air smelled heavily of leather evidently coming from the dozens of dark upholstered chairs littering the expansive room before them, some facing a stage while others were grouped together in threes and fours to create little social nests around cocktail tables. There was a bar to the right, black and plain, and lacking the addition of stools, but sorely _not_ lacking in the liquor that lined illuminated shelves of glass against the wall.

Besides the low music it was relatively quiet, a few groups of men cornered about the room only half watching the olive skinned woman wrapping her near naked body about a silvery pole on the stage at the center of the establishment's purpose. She moved gracefully and less provocatively than Wufei might have predicted, her forms slow and powerful, the muscles evident as she pulled herself upside-down, legs twisting and extending.

He swallowed once and turned to find his partners scouring the place just as he had been doing. It was amazing how quickly they'd all reverted back to the rhythms of war; survey, assess, analyze.

At first glance Wufei felt as though they stuck out like a sore thumb, but at least they were still dressed somewhat appropriately for their lush, if not more _unsavory_, surroundings. They only had to blend in until they'd retrieved their recon, which evidently had become something of a mystery to all of them. Menta had seemed somehow knowing in the way she spoke so directly to him outside of Vingt et Un. Knowing in regards to _what_, however, Wufei was unsure.

Trowa approached the bar then and rested an arm lazily against the counter, leaning in to mutter something to the bartender, a flush running from her cheeks all the way down the plunging neckline of her shirt. Wufei wondered absently what exactly had been exchanged. But then they watched as the bartender indicated 'one moment' with her pointer finger and left through a curtained exit presumably towards some sort of back room to request the presence of their newest acquaintance.

The other three stood, not quite in the doorway, but far enough away from the darkly lit space as to not become incidental voyeurs of the show taking place before them. No one seemed to pay them any mind and they were determined to keep it that way. In-and-out, no complications.

It did not take long for the redheaded woman they'd ventured to find to make an appearance. For a short and uncertain moment Wufei dreaded the idea that she might come out dressed in nothing more than the woman who was currently aiming her attentions towards a man whose eyes had become glued to her long, toned legs. But he was proved quickly wrong, in fact she was dressed in a matching uniform to the woman Trowa had previously spoken to. A bartender, not a- _stripper_. How he loathed that term as it entered his mind even as it exited just as quickly.

Heero had taken up a casual stance, arms over chest, and Quatre had busied himself with some train of thought that left his lower lip clenched under teeth when Wufei noticed Menta's movements stopping short of Trowa, her eyes flicking to their patiently waiting forms, before she had brought up a single finger, giving him a 'come hither' gesture by curling it inwards. She was frowning deeply. He thought he saw her eyes roll in annoyance.

Wufei realized that his mouth had dropped open for a split second at the way she was, and had previously been, acting towards them, as if somehow she knew them on some personal level that would allow for such brazen behavior.

And so, at some compulsion unbeknownst to him, Wufei found the back of his hand coming to connect with Heero's shoulder, grabbing the other men's attention, before making his way towards the bar and Trowa, who had grown surprisingly stiff since Menta's odd appearance.

Quatre was the first to speak. "Ms. Rolland-"

She held up a hand. "Enough with the niceties. I know who you guys are."

Quatre managed to share a look with Wufei who simply shrugged because he certainly had no recollection of ever knowing this woman in his life. But of course, they were ex-pilots, they hadn't been able to hide from the public eye entirely.

"I- remember you guys- from the war," Menta explained as she took in their thinly hidden confusion. "Not _specifically_, but enough from what the telecasts embellished and what my father told me. He was an engineer briefly at the time of- _Gundams_." The word seemed to stick on her tongue for a short moment of either hesitation or fear. It was not necessarily a word many people uttered out loud these days.

Wufei thought perhaps someone should respond to that. But no one did, and neither did he for that matter. Menta didn't seem to mind, apparently her profession hadn't warranted a response.

She leaned back against the bar, somewhat matching Trowa's forced stance. "One of you is missing."

At that Heero actually opened his mouth, but no words followed suit as he studied the woman. They were here for answers and this was only scribbling onto their long list of questions. Wufei watched as Heero clenched his teeth and understood the movement, the emotion behind it. Everything had grown to an immense height of frustration and now this woman 'knew who they were' and had some engineer father that undoubtably told over-fabricated stories of death machines from a wartime they all couldn't seem to shake from their resumes.

Wufei watched her, he could see the realization reflected in her eyes accompanied by something he could only equate as disappointment. It wasn't astonishing to think that somehow the reclusive Duo Maxwell had grown to become one of the most well known Gundam pilots to the general masses. They'd all run across people who'd recognize them from the time to time, some more than others, Quatre especially, but that was to be expected. Yet it seemed painfully ironic that Duo was the one to have had his face plastered about the colonies and Earth and all due to a simple miscalculation- perhaps something any of the pilots could have found themselves facing.

Wufei had once questioned why he'd never cut off the braid, his most distinguishing attribute, but the black silence and deadly scowl he'd received in return was enough to tell him that no amount of notoriety was going to bring about that desire in the longhaired man's mind. The discussion had been dropped without pretense.

Suddenly the wall that had been Heero Yuy for the last several hours seemed to crumble. He glowered. "What do you know?" The words were spat out and his hands had since formed fists, arms still crossed across his chest.

Quatre's hand found a soothing place on the man's shoulder. The worry in his eyes showed that he too was just as concerned by the amount of acid in their friend's voice as Wufei was.

Trowa cleared his throat in some sort of crude apology. "Earlier you said you could assist us."

Menta's eyes were still glued to Heero, though she did not seem afraid or offended by his icy demand. Her jaw worked for a moment before she chose to speak. "My father is missing as well." Her eyes then switched to Wufei as if the eye contact with Heero had grown too exhausting. "For a time during the war he went by the name of Meister R."

* * *

Duo groaned inwardly, clenching his eyes shut, thankful for at least that amount of movement, and commanded his muscles with all his pent-up brain power to _just fucking move._ There came a twitch of muscle and suddenly not only were his fingers constricting, but his toes as well, still hopelessly unfettered from any form of cover. Duo could feel his shoulders tensing, playing out an internal mantra and just praying that no amount of drugs or residual spasms would impede on his curiosity towards the new and weirdly familiar sounds still circulating into the room around him.

A twanging pain rushed through his neck, but then his arms were moving at their own accord, pushing upwards, leveling his body up onto elbows. He swiveled his head left then right- and stopped dead.

His eyes, now entirely uncaring of his other meager surroundings, became glued to a thick pane of glass, a window of sorts, that inhabited the upper half of the wall adjacent to the one his bed headed up. But it was not so much the transparent expanse that had grappled his attention, but the scene taking place just beyond, in a room much like his own.

There were three chairs, three bodies, three sets of electrodes attached to three different temples, three heart monitors, three unseeing pairs of eyes staring blankly forward straight through Duo's pounding ribcage.

They were undoubtably the eyes of Quatre Winner, Wufei Chang, and Heero Yuy.


	19. You're In Control

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, and mild adult themes.

**A/N:** Here we go with the next installment. Some questions answered, some new questions stirred up. Reviews are incredibly appreciated!

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 19: You're In Control, Is There Anything You Wanna Know?**

_Square One - Coldplay_

It had been an utterly pointless venture. A complete waste of time, though Quatre had disagreed with the notion of 'complete.' It had at least been a _tremendous_ waste of time then.

Heero studied the fingers curling into fists in his lap as Wufei drove and he didn't even bother to look up when the brakes were slammed a few times more than normal. They all had other things on their minds, driving was not 'priority number one' right now. He chastised himself inwardly for having taken into account something Duo might have muttered sarcastically in his ear.

Their lives were priority number one if only for the soul purpose of finding Duo, therefore driving ended up inadvertently tied to 02's wellbeing. But- he trusted Chang.

In his mind the conversation with Menta Rolland played over again as if stuck on repeat, something usually an annoyance to him. Get the pertinent information, analyze it, move on. But no matter how many times he'd analyzed this new development nothing seemed to quite fit.

_"My father wasn't one of the scientists chosen for Operation Meteor. He could have been, but- things got complicated."_

Yes, it seemed that everything nowadays was 'getting complicated.' The woman had wanted their help, knew of their capabilities, and tried to work them over with sorrowful eyes. She'd just assumed perhaps their comrade's disappearance was related. Maybe it was, but they'd all kept faces of steel on that suspicion. And yet, even despite everything, she had given them one useful piece of information. _Meister R_.

Ideas that had seemed so far away and strung out from one another were finally being pulled closer together. And even though this had turned out to be a rather interesting piece of intel, they were no closer to finding Duo and that is what irritated him the most.

By the time they'd made it back to Vingt et Un the slew of Preventers had dissipated, leaving only a few to deal with the crowds of onlookers and a ballistics team trying desperately to figure out what the hell had happened there. It seemed the L2 establishment was too wary of sending its best customers to a rivaling hotel. Greed feeds greed. That shouldn't have settled well with the four pilots, but in this instance it did afford them their private rooms and less time wasted moving elsewhere, so it went quietly overlooked.

Heero had internally resolved not to go back into the room he had briefly shared with Duo earlier that day. It never occurred to him to voice the minor, concerning feeling of acid brewing in his gut. So instead he followed the others to the twenty-fourth floor and without question they all found themselves holed up in Quatre and Trowa's suite, silent and contemplating.

"I suppose I should call Iria," Quatre had murmured after a few moments of hesitation. "She can tell me more intricate details in regards to the renewal project."

He looked sheepish as if he should know more in regards to a project his own company was heading up, but Heero couldn't completely blame him for not knowing every last detail personally. Being a twenty-something CEO of a billion dollar, often scrutinized, corporation sounded to him more painstaking than even mastering the Zero System. It was no wonder the man hadn't already gone prematurely gray. But to each his own.

As Quatre went to fish around his luggage for a palm-top communicator, Heero's eyes flickered to the form of a restless Wufei wrenching open the room's sliding door and stepping out onto the patio without an utterance. He closed the door behind him, but it did not fully reach its locking point, leaving an inch or so of space perhaps in preparation of listening in on Quatre's imminent conversation with his sister.

Heero found himself staring at the man's back through the tinted glass. It was stiff as he leaned his forearms against the balcony's railing, surveying the colony below, his shirt cuffs rolled up roughly as Duo's had been. It seemed none of them were quite as accustomed to the starched dress shirts of Quatre's usual repertoire.

There was a movement accompanied by a shuffling sound that pulled Heero's eyes away and towards the disturbance only to find Trowa's piercing eyes staring back at him with a pointed look in their green depths. They shared no words, only that harsh gaze as Quatre typed in a long code of numbers sitting at the room's business desk a few feet away.

Heero swallowed once and resigned himself to heed Trowa's unspoken command instead of waiting to see what might happen if he chose to ignore it.

With the grace of a cat stalking its prey, Heero made his way to the door and carefully slid it open just enough for his body to squeeze through. The colony air was stale and chilled the skin beneath his thin clothing. A quiver ran through his muscles and he wondered vaguely if it was due to the cold or the imminence of the conversation about to take place.

"When we were stuck in that cell on the Lunar Base," Wufei began without turning, his voice so soft Heero had to move forward towards the railing to catch the words. "I thought that I might kill him- more than once."

Heero grunted in affirmation. Duo had a way about him, that was for certain. Always jawing about something, complaining, interjecting. Heero had felt the impending need to strangle the man more than once himself, not limited to their shared cell during the war.

"I hold nothing against you. That would be a wasteful use of emotions." Heero's voice was rough as he spoke, but the words were clean cut, truthful, and poignant.

They stood in silence watching over the limited traffic below them, a few Preventer vehicles and taxis pulling in and away from the hotel's expansive front entrance, the roof encased in a red tinted stained glass that resembled a large rose from this vantage point.

Heero thought about what Duo might have said in this instance. Something to rival the seriousness; he would brush everything off and hide away his feelings- like usual. There was some sort of pain that ran for a split second across his chest and he thought for a single moment that it was the sensation of loss.

"I have this feeling that when we find him-" Wufei turned with a look of absolute confidence in his dark eyes, because they _were_ going to find him. "-that he's going to be smiling up at us- that Shinigami smile- no matter the circumstances."

Heero felt a pull at his lips. It was an astute and quite accurate prediction. Always smiling in the face of danger, laughing away the fates, mocking death.

"Baka," he agreed in reply beneath his breath. He managed to catch the way Wufei's mouth morphed into something akin to a smirk at that and Heero hastened to think of the last time he'd seen the man with such honest amusement written across his features.

"He's- my greatest friend," Wufei said.

Heero nodded once. "I understand."

The conversation ended there, somewhat abruptly for anyone that might have been listening in. But they knew, they understood, and that was all that needed to be said.

* * *

The idea of drowning, the sensation of lungs filling with water, the pull of weight downward into the dark abyss, would have been more appealing than this.

Duo's throat burned and his muscles, still weak from the sedative, were screaming at him to dilute their exertion. But he wasn't listening, only staring straight ahead into the marble-like eyes of his companions. They were lifeless and unknowing as their gaze seemed to travel through the glass without remorse. They were a scrap of war-time memory, something akin to confidantes, but most of all his family. And they were _dead_.

It hadn't taken Duo long to discern that these wax-like figures were not who they were masquerading to be, not by a long shot. But that initial shock, that painful shiver as his muscles tried desperately to defy his mind's commands, that's what stuck with him. His throat was raw from screaming their names.

But now, just as suddenly as the episode of panic had hit it was gone, replaced by stunned, hollow silence. Duo was pretty certain he could hear himself breathing, low and unsteady, and that meant he was still alive. But these- _clones_\- they were far from whatever the definition of living was.

He could tell by the way their eyes glossed over and the electrodes against their foreheads doing nothing to rectify their blank stares that they were inhuman- _had to be_. They certainly weren't the ex-pilots he knew, no matter how closely their features had been sculpted to reflect otherwise. But shit, it was frighteningly uncanny.

Duo's hand clutched helplessly at the glass before him. His body was trembling with fatigue, but he ignored it.

"Heero." The name, the plea, was no more than a whisper of the screams that had echoed through the small room moments before. His throat was damn well torn apart, his vocal chords charred with overuse.

_It's not him. It's not Heero._ The internal mantra did nothing to stop the quiver of tendons within his legs. Fuck, this couldn't be happening.

A flicker of movement, something he had been too preoccupied to notice before, caught Duo's attention. His eyes turned and melted upwards at a pace slower than his mind approved of, reflexes still thick with drugs and muddled with confusion. There was a small black box hovering in the corner, a glassy sphere forming an eye through which someone on the 'outside' was presumably watching his every move.

He could just barely feel the bite of his nails into flesh as his hands came to form fists at his side. Duo's teeth clenched, gnashing together with untamed anger, his face contorting into a sneering mask he'd not felt since his time spent harbored in a killing machine during the war.

You don't fuck with Duo Maxwell's mind and you certainly don't fuck with Shinigami's.

"Hey!" His voice was rough at first, but it was loud and driven with power. His arms waved madly around his body, flapping raggedly like a bird caught in the throes of a storm. "Enjoying the show?!"

Duo could feel his resolve bubbling away. "Are you listening to me out there?!"

There was the faintest taste of dripping metallic in the back of his throat. "You like fucking with people's heads? Do you get off on that shit, you sick bastard?!"

He could feel his lungs taking on more air than they were used to, his heart palpitating wildly, trying desperately to free itself from its cage.

"Talk to me, goddammit! Somebody's there- you're not that fuckin' stupid! You hear me?!"

His body was spinning now, searching for other cameras to spit at. There was no door he noticed, though he couldn't even focus on the frustration or confusion in that. His mind was a blur of curses, of memories colliding violently together, of hot fury- of those _photographs_. Damn it all-

"I get it." Duo's breathing was ragged, harsh blasts of hot air streaming out his nose and mouth. "You're in command here, huh? You wanna feel powerful? Important? Did your mommy not tell you you were special when you were a kid? Is that it?!"

The words came like gunfire, rapid and without relent, careening against the walls with nowhere to escape, ricocheting back in on him.

"Show yourself, you coward!"

Duo's eyes were nothing more than violet saucers. His surroundings had fogged over, the artificial Heero, Quatre, and Wufei a distant memory. Irritation, towards himself, towards these _people_, towards Preventer, towards his comrades and their seamless post-war lives...

"What's your motivation here?" He'd reverted into a whisper now, undoubtably catching his breath. Duo's eyes darted to the camera. "That's what I'm trying to fuckin' figure. What, did one of us kill your family during the war? Did we cost you your cushy job with Oz? Well?!"

He grunted in frustration, his fist slamming into the glass next to his body. He didn't even notice the spidering cracks the impact had caused. "Yeah, well get in line. You're not the only one who wants revenge on us pilots-"

There was the faintest sound of static, but it brought Duo's inflamed tirade to a stop immediately. His eyes narrowed upwards at the watching entity he'd apparently been communicating with.

"Mr. Maxwell, take a seat," a voice commanded, coming over an intercom system with some sort of indifferent authority. They sounded fucking bored actually, completely unimpressed by Duo's sudden conniption. "You're going to overexert yourself if you keep this up."

Duo couldn't fight the bout of laughter that rose from his gut and into the room around him, bouncing off the walls. _Overexert himself?_ The empathy was overwhelming.

"I'm glad to hear you care so much for my wellbeing," Duo snorted out, incensed and chuckling, the newfound smirk not leaving his lips.

"We do," the voice replied. "Now sit."

Duo, some sort of compulsion pulling him towards the bed or else the fact that his knees were seconds away from giving out, decided somewhat reluctantly to follow the order.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, trying not to relish in the relief his muscles felt upon impact. His eyes darted around the room again, connecting with the camera and then slowly migrating back towards the three bodies in the room opposite him, now completely ignoring his presence as if they could even recognize it anyways.

"Who are you?" Duo's voice was so soft and grating that it didn't even sound like himself.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked again, this time louder, his head tilting upwards towards where the voice had come from, somewhere within the ceiling, a hidden speaker.

There was a moment of hesitation that Duo noted as odd. The voice's other commands had seemed so sure and practiced. "A- a _doctor_\- I guess you could say."

Duo's shoulders heaved up and down as he let out a slow breath. These were _great_ answers, definitely going to be helpful towards their investigation. Everything was totally making sense. His eyes rolled almost painfully. The fuckers.

He swiped at the side of his head, some sort of phantom sensation attacking the layer of scarred skin. "Help me out here, will ya?"

There was another hesitation, this one decidedly shorter. "You are an interesting subject, just like that of your- _fellow compatriots_," the voice answered, stumbling a bit with the appropriate words. "Your genetic makeup is- _different_\- than many things we've seen in my field since this era of peace. Conserving your blood is very valuable to our experimental duplication process, Mr. Maxwell."

Duo swallowed, not having to dig very far to understand just what was meant by the odd proclamation. During the war, during his time with the Sweepers and the mad-man of a 'mentor,' Professor G, Duo had been inundated with more boosters, antigens, and immunizations than he could keep straight. His body had been one wiry, malnourished war-zone of scientific exploration, a veritable cocktail sloshing through his veins by the time he'd made his 'escape' to Earth, Shinigami's initial materialization. The worst of it had been the introduction of nanoids, the little toxin destroying tech monsters that still roved his blood stream making him inadvertently immune to near everything harmful, but also the likes of antibiotics, anti-depressants, and even alcohol; the latter being the only one he actually gave a flying fuck about.

But this was not so unusual to him, this realization. Heero had shared on one occasion this similarity between them. Apparently his own genetic make-up had been so highly tampered with that he may well have been a cyborg, in Duo's imaginative mind at least. So, it went without assumption that all five of the pilots had underwent some sort of genetic defense, whether it be in the demonic form of nano-tech or not.

And even though he rarely thought about what might or might not be coursing through his body's pipes, Duo had never given so much thought to the idea that this tech was not widely available amongst the Earth Sphere. Sure, it certainly couldn't be legal, that would have been all too simple for Professor G. But still, he'd never thought it'd come to this, some fanatical scientifically greedy wack-job wanting to clone whatever techno-primordial soup was still residually flowing through his body.

"You dropped someone made to look and identify as Heero Yuy from a fucking helicopter."

It's probably not the first thing that should have come out of his mouth. In fact it seemed much more pressing to discuss his impending blood-harvesting situation, as absurd as that was. But shit, somehow all Duo could think of right now was Heero and the question he'd been most plagued by since Wufei had come knocking at his hotel room door.

The voice took a few moments before answering, albeit hesitantly. "An- _experiment_. A trial run you might say."

"Fucking hell." Duo's palms came up to rub at his eyes, causing dark spots to crash through his vision. "And you just decided 'why not give him sky-diving lessons- minus the damn parachute?'"

There was the sound of coughing through the static. _Good_, Duo thought, _let's get this bastard as flustered as possible. Maybe that'll get some answers out of him._

A throat cleared and then the voice was back, calm and as collected as he could try to sound. "A: our brainwashing techniques- the memories and the intel- it had become a slight bit intensive for our subject's brain function to handle, leaving him essentially- well, um- _uncooperative_. B: there was the issue of attracting attention of other pilots as Doctor J was the only one willing enough to share his personal research in regards to his- er- _patient _with me during the war. We were comrades. And C: I was becoming increasingly curious in regards to our 'Heero Yuy's' endurance and in this line of work trial and error are really the only way to test our hypotheses."

Duo had gleaned one essential understanding from this man's over-thought monologue: he'd had contact with Doctor J during the war, perhaps some of the other scientists as well, though he could only imagine how G had felt about the bumbling man, probably holding the same mirthful depreciation for him that he felt in this current moment. Regardless, the new information was fantastic, a minor question finally coming to a close, though it had also opened a whole new can of fucking worms.

"So your clone got wise- or maybe insane- you couldn't locate any of the rocks I like to call home nowadays so you figured let Preventer do all the work, and then you wanted to know if your little science experiment had managed to actually create a version of the Perfect Solider. Did I get all the correct?"

"My- er- _employer_ has a rather innocuous taste for the over-dramatic."

The second realization Duo logged into his mind was that this man, this 'scientist' or whatever he wanted to damn well call himself was not working on his own, he probably wasn't M.R. or M.P.- or at least he was not the 'head honcho.' And by the way he seemed to frequently stumble over his words, he was not used to being remotely in charge of anything. Perhaps he wasn't even here at his own will, but that was speculation at its finest and Duo had to hold his mind back from picturing the disapproving face of Mr. Preventer Man in his mind.

Duo grunted in reply. "Yeah, I kinda got that. Your new 'Heero and Friends' nearly gave me a fuckin' heart attack."

The 'good doctor' nearly sounded sympathetic when he next spoke. "It's all a part of the process. We have to understand what each of your- er- _body's_ hold within their blood and DNA, but the testing does not stop at that. Brainwaves tell us a lot-"

"But you said they're brainwashed. That's not _actually_ us, doc, you realize that, don't you?"

Of course he did, the man might have fumbled for words occasionally, but he clearly wasn't stupid. Still, this conversation was beginning to infuriate Duo. It was all so impossible, something straight out of a poorly written sci-fi flick.

"Let me take a stab at this." Duo turned his body to face the near inanimate bodies on the other side of the glass. His eyes studied the spidering design where his fist had earlier connected before boring into the unseeing eyes of 'Wufei.' "Preventer probably keeps blood on file for all their operatives, or at the very least samples in a lab somewhere. Gotta keep their best agents healthy and accounted for just in case there's a trip to the ER."

His eyes then flicked to 'Quatre.' "Winner Corp does all sorts of humanitarian work- blood drives and all that shit. Not hard to get a hold of that rich blood."

Finally his vision rested on 'Heero.' "And here, you've told me your best secret. There's intel and samples on file from Doctor J's greatest experiment- closely followed by Wing."

His presumptive explanation was followed by cold silence, though he'd rather expected that reaction. If he was correct, which this new lack of response was quickly informing him that he _was_, then many of the puzzle pieces that had been floating around their investigation were being slowly popped into place. Duo felt almost happy to have been drugged, kidnapped, and made to _nearly_ lose his mind moments before.

Duo ran fingers over his chin, pondering in mock inquisitiveness. "Me an' Tro are the last ones then. You've just shown me all your cards right here-" he pointed vaguely towards the room opposite him. "-were we really that hard to track down?"

The continuing quiet afforded him a moment of understanding, remembering when Wufei had explained to him how hard it had been to get ahold of Trowa Barton. Perhaps a traveling circus was even better protection from the outside world than hitching it across the Earth Sphere sans cellular device.

His eyes gradually made their way back towards the camera. It was still watching him, studying him, mocking him, but there were no more words to follow. He'd probably crossed a line, but hell he'd gotten more than what he'd bargained for from whatever kind of 'doctor' he'd been speaking with. Duo was rather pleased with himself in the end, despite the cold eyes still staring out into nothingness past his head.

"Clones, shit," he muttered under his breath. His muscles had begun to ache again in the absence of stimulating conversation to take his mind off the residual effects of the sedative.

He couldn't quite tell if somehow his body had been inadvertently given another dose- though how that could have happened he had no fucking earthly idea- or else maybe he really had 'overexerted himself,' but the way his head was suddenly spinning with new answers and the new questions bred from those thoughts, Duo found his eyes falling shut to darkness before his head even hit the pillow.


	20. I Never Knew Fear Until He Came For Me

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, and mild adult themes.

**A/N:** Okay so here's the deal, this chapter's got angst written all the way through it, just a little heads up! As well, much of the inspiration and some of the dialogue from Duo's scenes is pulled straight out of _Episode Zero_ (which I claim no ownership to). It's getting especially good now, can't wait to here what you all think of these latest developments.

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 20: I Never Knew Fear Until He Came For Me**

_Beast - Mr. Hurricane_

The understanding between Heero and Wufei, the common goal at which they had both silently promised to focus all their efforts towards _together_, the comfortable air that had gathered around them on the balcony was all just as suddenly washed away as the sound of Quatre's voice trickled outside through the previously cracked door.

The conversation he'd initiated with his sister had started out calm and completely innocuous, as most things did with the man. He'd said some words of greeting, discussed things that siblings might discuss, and then with the simple deepening of his voice Quatre had managed to change the entire dynamic in one fell swoop.

Both Wufei and Heero had reentered the small suite to join Trowa in his silent vigil just outside of the small communicator's camera range. Heero leaned against the wall while Wufei took a perch on the arm of the sofa Trowa was still currently occupying. All three could see a distorted version of Iria Winner from their angular viewpoint, her face clearly tight, matching her younger brother's new and sudden expression of utter seriousness. It was time for business to be taken care of.

"I need you to check on any locations that Winner Corp is scouting for the renewal project- specifically Colony L2-V06599." Quatre spoke evenly, probably trying to keep his sister from seeing the amount of stress he was currently under. She would just ask questions if she suspected that anything was terribly wrong. Heero agreed with the tactic; all they needed was another innocent body involved in this spiraling investigation.

Iria stared at him for a heartbeat before smiling and nodding. There was silence interrupted sporadically by the sound of keystrokes coming from the other end. When she spoke next her tone matched that of her brother's.

"There is one- an old Oz run hospital- Medical Facility L2-098. But that location isn't scheduled to be evaluated for months."

She was curious- it was obvious- as to why Quatre was so suddenly interested in a project that he clearly had very little to do with. But if she had wanted to pry, she hid the desire very well and simply waited for any following requests for information.

"There was an employee, a researcher," Quatre began, seemingly changing topics, though his fellow companions knew better of that. "There was an article regarding a grant request- what information do you have on this individual?"

Heero could see from his angled perspective the look of instant recognition in the woman's eyes. There were more tapping of keys, hollow through the silence that had enveloped the four men.

Iria swallowed once. "Name, Sean Davis."

The entire room felt as though it had suddenly frozen over. Quatre leaned forward,his brows furrowing slightly, but still doing his best to hide any emotion from his eyes. "Do you have a photograph, anything from his employee record?" he whispered.

A few seconds later an image had been mirrored onto the screen, replacing Iria Winner's hardening features with a picture of a redheaded man that none of them had ever seen before, his hair flecked with gray and face lined with age. Not the Sean Davis they knew. Fuck, things had jut gotten exponentially more complicated.

Heero found his fist colliding with the wall directly behind him, receiving him a placated glance from Trowa, a look of understanding from Wufei, and the sound of Quatre and his sister abruptly signing off.

* * *

His vision was black, his eyelids still closed, the muscles attached to them refusing any orders from his brain to open and assess the situation. There was a presence in the room, or at least the looming idea of someone _watching_ him. He could sense something attached to either wrist even as those tendons chose to ignore his internal pleas for movement just as easily.

Duo could still breath, could still think, could still feel, though his mind was fogged by drugs and the intermittent sensation of free-falling backwards into the abyss. He was light-headed and weak and the minor prickle of something sticking into his immobile arm was not helping with the conclusions his harried mind was scrambling to come up with.

_Conserving your blood is very valuable to our experimental duplication process, Mr. Maxwell._

Blood. Goddamn _blood_. It was something he'd never thought of, just another part of his body- what did they say? A well-oiled machine. He'd seen blood in his lifetime, more than he ever cared to see again. Solo's blood, Father Maxwell's, Sister Helen's. Heero's blood. _His own_.

But that had been normal, had been an everyday sight during the war. He had blood on his hands just like the rest of the soldiers, of Oz, of his fellow pilots. Never had it been such a substance he thought so vied for. Blood was commonplace, ordinary; it came cheap.

Duo could smell smoke, could feel the soot and ash in the air circling around him like rain thrust about by wind. There was heat and smoldering embers beneath his feet.

_No...This can't be..._

He could see her lying there on the ground. Back then he'd been so helpless, just a scrawny child with rampant impulses and a skewed view of the world. Now he was older, stronger, wiser. He could save them.

_Don't make us worry like that. Father was... worried about you... even to the end. _

He could feel the tears welling in his eyes. He was older now, but it still hurt like it had that day. He didn't understand- he couldn't comprehend it. The rubble heaved atop her frail body shifted as she turned to him. Her legs were crushed, her features marred with dirt and soot and blood.

_The Alliance came... and attacked. But we... couldn't leave... the church. _

Duo could feel himself crumbling, could feel the resolve in his shoulders start to loosen, his throat to ache as he continued to breathe in the smoke enveloping him. He had to be strong, he had to- he needed to- _he would_.

* * *

They took the time to change into nondescript clothing before meeting in the lobby of Vingt et Un. It had been roughly a half-hour since Quatre's conversation with Iria, since they'd gained a lead, but also gained another annoyingly uninformative piece to their puzzle.

Heero stared at the intricate carpet of the elevator designed to imitate a bed of red roses, a flower he'd hated since the war for no truly graspable reason. His only real compulsion to even continue downward to the lobby and then onward to the abandoned hospital in the colony's red-sector was the odd sensation against his fingers of the various scars lining Duo's body, his chest, his back, his skull. It was a memory burned into his subconscious, the way the other man's skin felt against his own, continually resurfacing on his fingertips in an unpredictable and often irritating manner.

The elevator gave a ding as it reached its final destination and Heero moved forward, that compulsion pushing his legs to move one at a time, left, right, left. His feet felt heavy in the worn trainers that had replaced the too-stiff dress shoes from earlier. He'd felt utterly helpless, as he assumed they all had, upon receiving the news that 'Sean Davis' might be behind all of this insanity after all. Or at least some version of the man, perhaps the one they knew or else someone else entirely. It made sense and was completely incomprehensible all at the same time.

He could feel the weight of the Glock against his lower back, stuck into the back of his jeans as shit, at this point he didn't even really care if people knew he was carrying. His three other companions were already there, waiting, standing in a loose circle though none of them were talking or looking remotely like they knew each other. A stranger would have never perceived them as colleagues, much less friends.

Heero nodded once in greeting and then they were walking towards the front entrance. Preventer had made itself scarce by then and they could fairly well assume that nothing conclusive had been found or achieved.

They exited one by one into the colony's night cycle. Neither were sure of exactly what time it was, but of course time had become irrelevant at this juncture. Heading towards the valet stand, Quatre had his arm at Heero's elbow and his mouth near his ear as if to share something hushed with the man when a scuffling behind led both men and Trowa to grab at their concealed weapons simultaneously.

Heero whipped around to see Wufei, left hand clasped around his attacker's wrist pulling the arm taught, his right hand frozen in a strike ready to thrust the heel of his hand forward into the chin of a woman he'd apparently recognized in the nick of time.

Sally Po did not fight back, merely stared first at Wufei and then towards the three onlookers with calm, pale eyes. She actually managed to smile as her opponent began to slowly release his grip on her.

"Nice to see you too," she smirked.

Behind her the body of another familiar woman appeared from within the shadows the four ex-pilots had resided in earlier that day in the aftermath of the attack. Lucrezia Noin had changed just as little as her Preventer partner, none of them having come into any recent contact with the woman save for Wufei. She was older, as they all were now, but her eyes still held that familiar lust for the fire of battle. Heero understood that sensation all too well.

"How- you're- why-" The words tumbled out of Wufei's mouth as his brain struggled to catch up with the events taking place in front of him.

Heero might have smiled if that were something he normally did. "How did you find us?" he wondered softly.

Sally grinned and the group seemed to naturally move into the shadows and away from the watching eyes of casino-goers that had caught the near-violent display. Heero watched out of the corner of his vision as Trowa placed a hand against Quatre's shoulder-blade and he vaguely wondered as to the need for such contact. Maybe there wasn't a need- _maybe_...he continued to watch them until Noin spoke, her voice as hushed as his own had been.

"We _might_ have a tap on your comms." She almost winced as the words slowly tumbled from her mouth. "GPS doesn't hurt either."

"So you've cut me- cut _us_\- loose and yet somehow you're still using us to get what Preventer needs, is that it?" Wufei sounded nearly amused save for the steely chill of his expression. "You were right before, Barton. Using us like damn bloodhounds," he added in a mutter.

Trowa quirked a brow at that, but Sally was fast on the uptake. "Don't flatter yourself, Wufei. Though I appreciate the lot of you doing some of our dirty work, that's not really the root of why we're here."

That seemed to finally pull at Heero's attention. "It's not?"

Noin turned to him with a soft smile. "Duo's missing."

So diplomatic, even now after everything. Heero grunted in near annoyance, though he wasn't sure why. "_You're_ going to help?"

Sally laughed at that. "You don't sound like you want our help, Heero."

Quatre's palms flew up in a gesture of peace. "Of course we do." His elbow found its way into Heero's side and just as he was turning to glare at the blond he realized how escalated his tempter had suddenly become. His head shook in a nod a few times as he forced his mind to right itself. Stress had never gotten to him like _this_ before. He decided implicitly that he hated it.

Quatre all but beamed, as forced as it obviously was. "We do want your help. I'm afraid that we might just be- _disoriented_," he explained rather carefully. "Given our recent track record with Preventer."

"Ah." Sally nodded, a smirk adorning her features. Her pointer finger found its way into the air as if she'd had a sudden, but grand epiphany. "But that's why we are here strictly off the record. It might be a few Preventer tricks that got us our intel, but now that we are here on L2- well let's just say we're 'returning a few favors for some old friends.'"

If Duo had been present he would have undoubtably commented on being considered 'old' in any way, shape, or form. In fact, even Heero himself was having a hard time grasping the idea that they had actually known these women for quite a few years now. Had it really been that long since the war- that long since he and Duo...?

Trowa nodded appreciatively in the absence of any response. "I think we can live with that."

Wufei was chewing on something that Heero was unsure of and presumed he would not be made party to anytime soon. The way the man was staring at Sally, with some sort of glow in his dark eyes- perhaps appreciation- was something of an oddity that Heero found himself strangely intrigued by.

"How did you know that Maxwell is missing?" Wufei wondered slowly, his eyes narrowing ever slightly.

Sally- with that look of sly humor they were so accustomed to from their braided companion- stuck out her finger towards each of the men before her. "One, two, three four- it's pretty obvious."

Wufei glowered. "You know what I mean."

Sally shrugged, but Noin decided to take the lead on this explantation. "Your conversation with Iria Winner was- _telling_. But honestly until this point we were just here to help investigate. A missing persons case wasn't exactly what we'd expected."

"If you heard that conversation then perhaps you can shed some light on Sean Davis for us?" Quatre interjected, a look of anticipation coming across his face.

Noin's expression turned grim. She shook her head. "Our guy checks out through Preventer. Unless he's got the hacking and forging skills of you, Heero, the name must just be a coincidence."

Heero's teeth grit for a second. "A _big_ coincidence." His arms found a comfortable place crossed over his chest.

Trowa's hand removed itself from Quatre's shoulder. "We can't worry too much on that right now. We need to start where our information has led us currently."

The air around them had become thick with tension as their collective minds had gone into overdrive, questioning, decoding, strategizing, compounding, denying, and predicting all at once. But their next venture was unanimous: Medical Facility L2-098.

* * *

His mind could register nothing but the painful flames licking at his skin, the hollow orbs staring up at him and suddenly his own eyes were peeling open. He was in the same hospital room as before, but there was something inherently different. It was on fire.

Duo gasped in a breath, his lungs seizing on the smoke slowly trapping him against the bed. He pulled at the metallic straps holding his wrists to the frame at his sides, the stinging sensation of the butterfly needle still stuck in the crook of his arm barely a thought in his sudden, frantic existence.

_Father was so noble... he kept preaching peace..._

The flames were real and hot and eating away at the white walls and tiled floors around him and yet he could not feel a single sensation in his body anymore. Maybe the nerves had all been killed already, numbed to the pain of flesh melting and lungs collapsing.

_That's not noble... that's just dumb! What's the point if he's dead now?_

His world was darkening again, that feeling of weakness overcoming his muscles, like no matter how hard he fought to stay awake his body was going to tumble over the edge into oblivion any second. His eyes searched through the flames, but Sister Helen was gone, the Maxwell Church was just a distant memory.

The only thing he could see were those eyes staring back at him through the flames, through the window that was cracking, web-like, under the pressure. They were on fire, their skin charred and black, falling off the bone in sinews and fleshy chunks. The bones were porcelain compared to the gray smoke and golden flames surrounding them.

_Duo... May you... have God's blessing..._

He watched from his bed, restrained and helpless, the blaze engulfing him, his lungs refusing the let anymore ash into their depths, as the fire tore away the familiar faces only to be replaced with three skeletons, the bones blackened, teeth stretched into smiles and then he succumbed to the darkness.

* * *

It was there, right in front of them. The possibility of answers, the possibility of Duo. The structure was just an empty hull of what once might have served as a hospital, though the gold gilded door handles and visible candelabras of the lobby told of it's possible initial use as something much more fitting of the elaborate decor. But in wartime everything became vied for as territory and if Oz needed a hospital, then remodeling this expansive building must have been the best thing they could do in short time.

They stood around their vehicles, Sally and Noin having taken their own car to make the twenty minute trip south, and silently assessed the situation before them. A light glowed from within the few windows and glass entryway of the old medical facility, proving that their initial suspicions might very well be correct. It seemed unlikely that the power or generators would have been left running for an entirely abandoned building, especially on a space colony- always trying to conserve energy where they could. Even with the imminence of renewal, it was highly suspicious.

Heero felt the skin of his gun rough against his own, felt its weight, and tried desperately not to think about all the endless possibilities that could be awaiting them. Best not to dwell on scenarios that would almost one hundred percent be proven false.

There was a presence at his side then. He turned to be met with aqua eyes piercing through the darkness around them. Quatre had wanted to speak to him earlier, but their impending conversation had been cut off by the appearance of their new Preventer aids.

"Heero." His voice was nearly a whisper as apparently this was to be a private talk. "Are you alright?"

Heero felt himself tense. He was fine, of course he was, what would lead the other man to think anything otherwise? His eyes closed briefly and he ran a palm across his face. On second evaluation, perhaps his tells were not as easy to hide as they used to be.

He swallowed. "Yes," he grunted out in final response. It wasn't a lie exactly, the term 'alright' leaving a lot of gray area and room for open interpretation. He was 'alright' in the sense that he was not injured or in serious mental or physical harm currently. The mental part may have been a stretch. Heero inwardly chastised himself for such odd rambling; he couldn't even begin to get his thoughts in order-

Quatre's hand was on his shoulder, just as Trowa's had been on his own earlier. Heero blinked at him and the other man managed a sad smile.

"I think you need him. Even if you didn't know it before," he said.

Heero didn't have to ask, didn't have to do much of anything, as the image of Duo Maxwell flashed across his memory. Quatre was unequivocally correct, as much as he hated to admit 'needing' anyone in his life ever at all.

Heero sighed. "I knew it before, I just didn't acknowledge it before."

That received him a slightly happier grin from the blond man just before the sound of Wufei's voice interrupted their shared understanding.

"Ready? Just a routine grounds and perimeter check. Simple," the Chinese man said, his voice trying for light but coming up just short. It was almost as if he were trying to convince himself that everything was going to be easy and simple just as much as he was trying to convince the other two men.

The group had split up at first, Sally moving off with Wufei, Noin and Quatre taking the left side, leaving Heero and Trowa to watch one another's backs. The two men moved silently, keen eyes on darkened surroundings, searching the building for any signs of weakness in order to gain entry without accidentally tripping any residual alarms- or perhaps newly installed security if someone had in fact set up shop inside the facility.

According to Heero's internal clock it had taken them almost exactly eight minutes to come across an innocuous looking door who's handle pulled easily, no lock, no trip wire, no alarm bells. It had been efficient, but had taken longer than Heero had wanted, but he still gave his equally silent partner a nod of appreciation as it had been Trowa to actually discover the entrance.

They'd received radios from Sally, Preventer issue with an encrypted channel for their personal use, and after a few seconds of determining exact location Heero rattled off the found entry point to his other scattered comrades.

He and Trowa had then spent a total of five seconds staring at the door in front them before wrenching it open and slinking inside. Heero was then once again silently grateful to have 03 with him as his potentially impulsive actions were not argued against, but merely acknowledged with a trusted gun to watch his blind-spots.

The hallway in which they had entered was shrouded in darkness, but a dim light to their left acted as a beacon towards the part of the hospital in need of investigation. Heero took the lead, Trowa following three paces behind. Both had their guns at the ready, unsure of what they might end up encountering.

They made it to the lobby, the large space they'd seen glowing from the parking lot. Heero immediately hated every inch of its existence as the vaulted ceilings leading up to the floors above afforded absolutely zero cover from possible enemies. There were too many pockets for ambush, but he soon found himself having to quell the insecurities that his mind was dwelling on- the teenage soldier creeping to the forefront of his consciousness having to be dismissed with a harsh shake of his head.

The lobby ended up being easily traversed and the thought that someone might be inhabiting the space was slowly dying as still the only signs of humanity they'd come across had been the partial use of electricity.

Reaching a wide corridor he and Trowa each took point at a corner, backs to the wall, in order to assess both the right and left sides at the exact same time. Guns cocked in the stark silence as they each turned their bodies slowly against the edge to peer down the hallway. Both sides were clear.

Not wanting to split off from each other, but understanding the impertinent need to sweep the building faster than they were now, Trowa silently acknowledged Heero's command and they each took to their assignments, walking away from their second pair of eyes in hopes of finding- well Heero wasn't quite certain yet if he actually wanted to find anything at all in the building that proved to be more and more desolate with each step he took.

After creeping along a wall painted with a disgusting scene of rolling hills and sunshine that residents of the L2 colony had probably never even laid eyes on in reality before, Heero came to another corner. He edged around it like he'd done the last only to come across yet more quiet blankness.

By this point he could assume that the others would be making their way inside the hospital ruins now and eventually they would all converge on one another and share their lack of findings. But something within him was stirring again, something pulling him inward to the heart of the building. He couldn't stop replaying the words that Quatre had spoken to him outside- over and over again like an annoying little mantra that he couldn't shake.

_I think you need him._

Yes, dammit, he did. It was true and he hated himself for it, but more than that he hated the fact that he'd never admitted the fact to Duo. How had he managed to swallow it down for so long?

Heero's eyes pierced down the hallway, some of the overhead fluorescents flickering as he moved deeper inward. A shuffle sounded from behind him and he spun, gun taking aim only to find nothing to shoot.

In that moment he'd not expected the fingers that slithered onto his shoulder and his entire body twitched, his left hand coming up to grab his attacker by the wrist in preparation of wrestling the arm into an inescapable position, but he'd not prepared for the swiftness of his attacker, the sinewy muscles or the appearance of a braid that only managed to distract him for a single second. But it had been enough.

His gun arm was grabbed and twisted behind his back, the power he'd previously been planning to use now turning against him. Heero was shoved forward, his balance misjudged and he stumbled as the gun was pried out of his awkwardly angled fingers.

Adrenaline kicked in then, and despite not having his weapon, Heero managed to push backwards into his attacker, thrusting a foot back to connect with a shin, sending out a yell that he recognized all too well. For a brief moment he thought he might have been sick if not for the combat still currently taking place.

His wrist was released and Heero spun to face his opponent, prepared to be met with a smirk or else a drugged version of the man, but what he found were the indigo eyes that haunted his sleep, sunken and bloodshot, tears beading against thick lashes.

Duo's arms flung around his neck and Heero found himself in the embrace he hadn't realized he'd been longing for. Instinctively lips pressed against the chestnut head buried against his chest.

His voice was soft and muffled when he next spoke. "Its okay. I've got you, Duo." _And I'm never letting go._


	21. But I'm Nothing On My Own

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, and mild adult themes.

**A/N:** Thank you for your kind reviews! I apologize in advance for the shortness of this particular chapter, but it all came to such a natural stopping place. Next one will be up soon, I promise. Read? Review? (p.s.- the song inspiration for this chapter, in my opinion, is an incredible companion for the 1x2 in this story.)

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 21: But I'm Nothing On My Own**

_A Message - Coldplay_

Trowa had never been in the habit of questioning the motives behind Heero Yuy's actions. He'd driven him how many miles during the war, watching as he stared down the barrel of his own gun, offering up his death as some sort of repentance for his sins; it was the only way the Perfect Soldier knew how to try and correct the mistakes he'd made and that had always been something of a revelation for Trowa.

And so now, as Heero asked him to follow him into the unknown abyss of the abandoned medical facility, Trowa chose again not to question him. But this time it wasn't out of respect or admiration, but rather it was because he understood, inherently, the emotions that his comrade was now wholeheartedly acting on.

He thought, only briefly, about what he might have done in a similar situation- if Quatre had been missing, had been taken, would he have been able to act so efficiently? Maybe, but he only dwelled on that thought for a single heartbeat.

They'd split up now and though he knew that Heero could certainly handle himself, Trowa couldn't help but feel a slight ache in his gut. But, he understood quickly, that the sensation had more to do with the impending possibility of their search turning up empty- or possibly worse- than the idea of Heero now lacking an extra set of eyes at his back.

It was true that he'd not known Duo Maxwell as well as he knew some of the other ex-pilots that had been unceremoniously gathered together once again. He had memories of Peacemillion, wiling away the hours between battles with games of chess and conversation that he often found himself ignoring. He remembered the time Duo had found him at the circus, the time they'd sparred in mobile suits aboard Colony X-81999. Several unfair punches to the gut rang a bell. And even so, after the years of non-contact, he still felt some sort of thread pulling at him, an instinct perhaps becoming unburied from the war, as he took careful steps down the winding hallways of the facility in search of the only thing he hoped to find there- _Duo_.

He'd not gotten far, up a flight of stairs, down to the left, a right turn around the next corner, when he first heard it. The sound of screams, loud and un-human in nature, echoing down the hallway and straight through his body like a white-hot knife. His mind urged his body to panic, to run headlong towards the awful noise, but his steps were slow and marked, his fingers still wrapped tightly around his gun as it nosed through the abandoned air around him as he made his way cautiously towards the hollow sound of terror.

As Trowa moved it became more and more difficult to detect the origin of the the noise as the screams were soon replaced with silence, but the occasional cry drew him closer until finally he could hear the gasping breaths coming from behind an unmarked door.

He swallowed and tried the handle; it was locked, but that was not so surprising to him. If Duo had been here- that thought becoming immediately sour in his subconscious- he would have been able to pick the lock with ease. But unfortunately, he was almost certain, that the root of that idea was currently the one breathing heavily on the other side of the door. He'd never quite been able to forget the sound of the other man's screams from wartime- as much as their braided companion had tried to hold them in.

Forgoing the option of searching out a suitable tool to pick the lock himself, Trowa opted for the brute strength that was readily available to him. The door was constructed of hollow wood, an easy target- he first marked the weakest point, right below the lock, and then he stepped back to swing the heel of his foot upward, using as much pressure as he could muster to thrust forward. One kick loosened it enough for the second impact to send the door swinging inward, slamming against the wall with a sound of cracking wood and punctured plaster.

Trowa was already looking down the barrel of his gun, ready to take on any opponent he might meet in the new and unfamiliar space, but after a moment of hesitation, he found his arm slowly falling, the weapon suddenly incredibly heavy in his hands.

Surely he had seen Duo in worse condition, bloodied and beaten, bruised and burned, but he'd never seen the man that called himself the God of Death this close to the actual end. Trowa moved quickly to the hospital bed that held the smaller man, looking frail and barely alive amidst the the wrist and ankle restraints and yellowing linens. Duo's eyes were clamped shut, bangs clinging to a dampened forehead, his skin was alabaster white, much paler than any natural shade of the living.

After a second of shock, Trowa was able to locate the reason behind Duo's weakened state; sticking from a vein along the inside of his arm was a butterfly needle allowing his life to flow away one drop of blood at a time. Trying his best to regulate his own breathing, Trowa whipped around to find drawers along a crude countertop in search of gauze or bandages.

He couldn't begin to gauge how much blood had been drained from the man's body. He couldn't be sure how much time he had until Duo's heart stopped beating or his vital organs started shutting down. But the one thing Trowa was certain of was that he was not about to let the man that Heero loved succumb to such a fate of uncertain death.

* * *

Heero's arms were steel molded around the man's body, holding him to his chest, the other man's tearful eyes pressed against his shoulder. He tried his best to soothe, running fingers against cold skin, wrapping themselves in chestnut hair ready to fall from its loose braid, a palm reaching up to brush against the battered and scarred edge of Duo's skull. The shaved skin was delicate- and soft- and _smooth_...

Heero's mind clicked a half a second before the knife plunging forward could make contact between his vulnerable ribs.

His eyes flashed open as he jumped back, pushing the other man with a resolve that he'd almost lost moments before. _Not Duo_, were the only words that ran through his head as the knife was plunging forward again, this time in a downward arc towards his neck.

A yell managed to escape from his lips as his thoughts finally caught back up to reality and he could force his muscles to cooperate. Heero dodged, running towards the braided man, now noticing the slightly deadened look behind those familiar indigo irises, and swept his foot out, hitting bone.

The other man went down without even a howl of pain, though Heero had heard clearly the sound of the shin bone breaking under his powerful attack. His fingers shook with adrenaline and his brain fought to gain control, to understand, to formulate a plan of action. He'd just managed to disarm his surprising attacker as the sound of running footsteps alerted his attention to the hallway behind him.

"Heero!" Quatre's voice was a gasp echoing throughout the desolate space. "You've found him-"

"No!" Heero shouted backwards, not daring to let his eyes leave the man now cradling a broken leg. It was making his stomach turn as he had to constantly remind his subconscious that this person, this body, was _not Duo_.

Wufei was at his side then, a firm hand against his shoulder. Heero turned to see the other man's gun drawn and steady. They shared a minuscule glance, the entire explanation shared between the single, furtive look.

The sound of feminine voices crept into Heero's ears, the sounds of radios, of that familiar language, of protocol tattooed at the back of his memory. Sally and Noin were requesting immediate backup, an ambulance, connection through to Une, all hands on deck, anything they could possibly think of to shout into their communicators, despite the possible penalties they would face at the hand of Preventer.

"A lot of good that'll do you."

Dammit, the voice was even accurate. The tone, the slight slur of his words, that infinitesimal accent that Heero had grown so attached to. The braided man was looking up at the three ex-pilots through dampened bangs, his eyes piercing and now totally unfamiliar.

He sneered, opening his mouth to speak again. "You think the boss is stupid enough not to have a fail-safe?"

Heero wanted to twist the man's injured leg until he screamed, but Wufei's hand was squeezing against his tensed muscles, calming for once in the Chinese man's normally hot-headed existence. A fail-safe could mean anything, anything that would rid the place of evidence not to be found by Preventer or the likes of ex-Gundam pilots. They had to move quickly. They had to find Duo.

The radio at Quatre's hip crackled to life. "Target acquired. Evac immediately."

It was Trowa's voice, a tinge of something odd in his words- could it really have been _fear _that Heero heard there?

Before Quatre could respond, Heero had moved to grab hold of the radio, his teeth grinding. "Barton, you have him? The real Duo- check for- there's scar tissue- previous head-injury- affirmative?"

The words were pouring from Heero's mouth before he could steady them and formulate a more coherent question. It took only three tentative seconds for the other man to respond, that tinge coming back loud and clear through the radio's static.

"Affirmative," Trowa answered. Heero had just remembered to start breathing again when the next piece of information reached all of their waiting ears.

"There's a motherfucking bomb in the east stairwell."

Heero lost all sense of control then, his hearing becoming hollow and warped. The man charading as his lover began to laugh hysterically, attempting to crawl away down the hall even with his mangled leg, bone sticking maddeningly from within skin and tendons.

Wufei was yelling something- screaming his name?- and then hands were dragging him away, his legs taking a few seconds to catch up with reality. There was cursing, but he couldn't identify from whom. There was a ticking sound ringing through his head- prefabricated from his subconscious to drive him mad.

_Trowa has Duo_, he had to keep repeating in his head like a mantra. He could feel his lungs taking in air, but his head felt lightheaded as they ran back from whence they'd come, back down stark hallways and through the glowing, pristine lobby, through the doorway they had discovered less than ten minutes before. The sound of his blood sloshing through his veins was so loud that he barely registered the voices next to him until his body was being pushed down against the asphalt, the skin of his arm rubbing against the rough tire of their vehicle.

Heero wasn't sure if he had lost consciousness or else just could not bare to open his eyes. The sound of the explosion echoed up into L2's metallic rafters that imitated the night sky, flames spitting heat, the possibility of the suction of space making a very ominous appearance in the back of his mind as the ground below his body reverberated with an intense force.

His entire life he'd been advised to act on his emotions. How many times had he repeated the words- to Trowa, to Duo, to everyone in his existence? He'd allowed his outward appearance to become stone, to hide away anything unnecessary in completing his missions, to act in an efficient manner, but his heart- _his heart_ had always been true.

He was not cold, his heart was there in his ribcage beating against the bones, pumping red-hot blood just like anyone else's. So why had he never confided in Duo? Why had he led his entire existence as a stone-cold bastard, someone with sexual urges, but someone with zero emotion behind them. He was just as bad as the clone claiming to be Duo.

So why was Duo the only one he could not open up to when he was the _only_ person that Heero truly needed in his life? Quatre had been right, the fucking empath had known all along, so why had it taken so long for Heero to admit it to himself?

The sensation of silken hair filtering between his fingers, the warmth of Duo's breath against his neck, the guttural moans, the slick sensation of heat and sex and lust attacked his subconscious.

Heero felt his fingers tearing into the skin of his head, his palms pushing against his forehead as the realization that it might be too late to say the damn words he should have said years ago. But now, now that he might not get the chance, now he was ready. Dammit all. He _needed_ Duo. He _loved_-

"Heero."

The name sounded foreign in his own mind, the voice far off. He looked up to be met with a single green eye. Trowa stared at the man, his lips a straight line, a patch of drying blood assaulting the skin of his angular jaw, and then Heero's vision flicked downwards to the body resting in the strong arms of his friend.

He'd never felt the sting of tears in his eyes before, the warmth of emotion welling in his gut, but this moment was the closest he'd been to letting his guard down completely. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Heero blinked once and then plunged hands forward to rest against Duo's body, frail and delicate in the orange glow of the burning remains of Medical Facility L2-098.

"Duo." His lips formed the name, but the sound didn't make it from within his trembling throat.

Gently Trowa rose, carrying the small, pale body with him. Quatre was issuing orders, Wufei was speaking frantically with Sally and Noin, but all Heero could focus on was the nearly imperceptible rise and fall of Duo's chest.

He wasn't even sure how it happened, but then he was suddenly in the back seat of their rental car, Duo's upper body laying across his knees, his eyes fluttering as the movement of driving seemed to rouse him from whatever unconscious state he had been under.

Trowa looked on silently from the passenger seat as Quatre drove, the other three Preventers following closely behind in the other car. Heero was glad to have some type of privacy, to not be burdened with whatever calls and reports were surely taking place across Wufei's communicator.

Heero's arms cradled the other man's head, his eyes roving the body in search of injury, seeking out the reasoning for his weakened state. The bloodied bandage wrapping his arm told very little of what Trowa would presumably inform him of later. But for now, he could do nothing but stare in awe as Duo's eyes flickered open to meet his own.

"Hey- 'Ro." The smirk was there, weak and quivering, but Wufei had been right- there was that Shinigami smile. "Trowa- put out- the fire."

"Shh," Heero soothed, leaning farther forward to close the gap between them, unsure of exactly what the other man was muttering about. "You're safe now."

The smile grew, Duo's eyes closing. "You- don't have to- hold me- I ain't no- damsel in distress."

Heero heard an amused snort from the front seat, unsure of whether it had emanated from Quatre or Trowa, but it didn't matter as his lips managed to pull back in amusement as well.

"I love you," Heero whispered, his lips brushing against the braided man's forehead.

Duo let out a sigh, something contented and beautiful, his eyes fluttering just before he fell back into unconscious sleep. "Love you- too- _Heero_."


	22. There Is An Answer In A Question

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, and mild adult themes.

**A/N:** Your support is wonderful, you guys rock, seriously! I believe some of your questions might be answered in this chapter, but things are still a bit muddied for our pilots, I'm afraid. Read? Review? (P.S. - check out my latest fict, _Down In Africa,_ if you're interested in a little summertime adventure AU!)

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 22: There Is An Answer In A Question**

_Black Sun - Death Cab For Cutie_

He was in a hospital on Earth, that much he knew. He had been in a facility on L2, but he'd been since transferred; the details involved with that he couldn't remember for shit. He wasn't sure how long he'd been in the hospital for. Heero had said two days, but that couldn't have been right; it felt like a fucking eternity to Duo.

His eyes peeled open to stare at the white tiles above him, hovering there, taunting him. The facility reminded him too much of the place he'd been held captive in- could it really have just been over twenty-four hours? That too seemed like fucking forever in his mind. And though he got a nauseous sensation in his gut every time a monitor beeped, a nurse came in to take his vitals, or the needle currently stuck in his hand shifted uncomfortably beneath the surface, Duo did not say a word about it to anyone.

Not even to Heero. If he'd been forced to choose someone to confide in he supposed that the Perfect Soldier would have been the most appropriate choice. But he wasn't about to burden him with more worry; shit, he knew Heero wasn't sleeping, he could tell, he could see it in the tiny pink lines running across the whites of his eyes. This was the man he loved after all, how selfish would he have to be to impart on him any of the pain that was currently flowing through his subconscious every time he closed his damned eyelids?

"You lost a lot of blood." That's what Trowa had said to him from the front seat as he drifted in and out of consciousness. Duo had appreciated the man talking to him directly, instead of explaining the situation like 'frail little Duo' wasn't laying right there. But still, it had been hard to grasp onto the conversation what with the shit-awful feeling of impending death by exsanguination coursing through him.

"It looks like maybe they were going to do some kind of transfusion." That was the second part to Trowa's explanation. It was those words that had pulled Duo back to reality long enough to reach into the elastic waist of his scrubs, push his fingers through the hole he'd ripped there earlier, and retrieve the tightly folded pieces of paper he'd managed to filch from the morgue upon his first and only tour of the 'totally insane and fucked' hospital he'd been forced to call home.

At first Heero had seemed confused and that had somehow annoyed Duo. But after watching the man unfurl the packed papers, his eyes adjusting and beginning to skim and then re-skim over the words and information there, Duo had felt well enough to lay back and let his eyes close at his own volition, not his now unpredictable and feeble body's discretion.

"I didn't have time to investigate much further," Trowa had supplied in some sort of finality to the earlier couple of sentences. Duo sensed the movement as Heero had thrust the papers denoting the blood types of the 'John Doe's' he'd discovered in the morgue forward presumably for a response from their other traveling companions. That's when the conversation had stopped and the next memory Duo had was waking up in the fucking hospital room from hell until he realized it was cleaner and he wasn't strapped down to the bed-rails and it was, in fact, a Preventer run facility.

In the back of Duo's mind somewhere he had the faintest memory of heat and every so often his nose would prickle at an imaginary smell of smoke. There was something in his subconscious, images and scraps of memories, that he couldn't quite decipher. The thoughts circled his mind like an odd dream that he couldn't quite remember. But, he knew this for certain, the singularly clear sound of Sister Helen's voice coursing through his mind was no reverie.

He was being released today. At least that was something, finally some fucking _good_ news. But Duo couldn't help but feel off, feel odd at the idea of coming back into the group of ex-pilots after having been nearly at death's doorstep not four days before. He didn't like to be vulnerable, to need rescuing, he didn't want Heero to hover over him, but he couldn't do much about that as the other man seemed to be just as stubborn as he himself was. That was sure as hell gonna make this whole 'loving relationship' shit fun to work their way through.

A nurse was currently rattling something off, staring at a clipboard as Heero stood by and nodded every so often in accordance with how one should be acting in such a situation. Duo was at least grateful for the fact that not one of his friends actually _wanted_ to be inside the hospital. They'd all had enough negative memories associated with them from the war, and now with the med facility on L2- Duo was pretty certain that none of them were ever going to be willing to admit themselves under a doctor's care ever again unless absolutely essential.

Apparently almost bleeding to death was placed pretty high up under the 'absolutely essential' category, much to Duo's chagrin.

"Ready?" Heero asked, watching the braided man with those careful, clinical eyes of his.

Duo sat on the edge of his hospital bed, thankful to finally be rid of the irritating hospital gown and back in his own, entirely black and much more comfortable clothing. He nodded, but when he stood he couldn't fight the near instant head-rush. Duo had been practicing feigning normality so as to not alert Heero to any sort of weakness he was experiencing. After a few uncertain seconds of dizziness the spell passed and Duo was able to follow the other man out of the hospital, abrasively denying the use of normally mandated wheelchair service.

He sat on a bench in the fresh air of Sanc while Heero went to pull the car around. It was a vehicle provided graciously to them by Winner Corp, a company car of sorts. Their new place of residence for the time being had also been provided by Quatre- the safe-house that four of the pilots had broken into at the start of their investigation.

Duo supposed that their need for secrecy had pretty much flown out of the window by now what with everything that had already happened. He remembered an overheard conversation that Wufei had had once when he'd thought Duo to be asleep in his sterile bed- a lot of terse words and irritation from his end; he'd presumably been speaking to someone at Preventer- Une? Davis?- due to his tone and manner of speaking, even if he'd thrown in several brash curse words for emphasis.

During his time in the hospital Duo hadn't asked about the investigation, hadn't asked about the body identification papers, not about any M.R.'s or M.P.'s, not even about Sean Davis or Sally and Noin's sudden, apparent involvement. He'd figured the knowledge and new anxiety wouldn't have done him much good as his body struggled to whip back into homeostasis.

He found himself sitting on the low couch in the safe-house's living room, staring at nothing in particular on the cream toned wall ahead of him, when the first inkling thoughts of what had actually happened to him on L2 began to trickle back into the forefront of his mind.

"That wasn't their base of operations. Couldn't have been. Maybe a temporary lab, somewhere out of the way to tinker around, but not HQ."

He'd subconsciously been listening to a conversation taking place between Wufei and Trowa in the kitchen behind him when Duo decided to speak up.

After a few silent seconds he thought perhaps that they were going to ignore him, just chalk the rambling and seemingly random thought up to shock, when Wufei appeared at his side.

"Maxwell-" he began, but then his voice seemed to even out. "Duo- did you have any contact with anyone in that facility? Anyone at all?"

Duo was nodding before his mind could even formulate which thing he wanted to explain first. "A doctor- or at least he called himself a doctor, hell the guy didn't seem too sure himself."

He watched Trowa, who'd also sidled into view, share a sidelong look with Wufei before the other man leaned in towards Duo, his deep black eyes very serious. "Did this 'doctor' give you any reason to believe he may have had contact with any of the scientists during the war?"

There was a pause of hesitation as the words sunk in, then Duo's eyes were widening. "Actually yeah. He mentioned Doctor J once- something about Heero and research and- hey, you're speculating there 'Fei- how the fuck did you know-"

"Not speculation," Wufei interrupted firmly. "When we met with Menta Rolland she told us about her father, a man that used to be known by the name of Meister R."

Duo's mouth formed the thought before his voice could catch up. "M.R.," he whispered in realization.

"But now we must consider the initials M.P. from that morgue paperwork," Trowa supplied quietly, clearly not wanting to admit the new wrench thrown into things, but unable to just overlook the development.

"Milliardo Peacecraft?" Duo's mouth had spat out around a smirk before his mind could quite catch up to stop it. The idea had been meant as a joke, but neither man seemed to find any humor there save for perhaps himself. Any other day he might have been reprimanded for speaking so recklessly, but they all still seemed to be walking on eggshells around him since his 'harrowing experience.' Shit, he hated that.

Duo sighed roughly and looked down at his hands. For a single second he thought he could see shining red coating them before his vision cleared. Everything seemed so royally fucked, even with all the new recon they kept stumbling upon.

There were steps behind him then, one set clicking against the floor and the other barely ghosting across it. He turned to see Quatre and Heero enter the room, their expressions grim as if they'd caught the tail end of the conversation.

Heero came to sit next to Duo on the couch, not at all trying to hide the worried affection in his eyes as he gazed at the braided man in the same appraising way he'd done ever since Trowa had handed him over to the strong and capable hands on L2. It made him feel like a damn porcelain doll.

Ignoring the thought, Duo tried to hide a shudder as his vision flicked between the men now practically surrounding him. "They had all of you, 'cept Tro," he muttered, only half coherent as the thought seemed to randomly manifest on his tongue. "Shit, it was fucked up."

Heero inched forward so his knee came into contact with Duo's own. "You mentioned that the first morning in the hospital."

"Oh." Duo didn't honestly remember the entirety of his first day in the hospital and he figured he probably had said some weird shit being on as many drugs as had been pumped into his system.

"So- there are _clones_ of us then?" Quatre's voice was soft, but only because he'd been tiptoeing ever since they'd arrived back at the safe-house, like he didn't want to accidentally trigger anything for Duo, which he appreciated, but still it had gotten to be damn near impossible to hold a normal conversation in this fucking condo.

"Not 'clones' exactly. They're more like Frankenstein's monster," Duo snorted in response.

"You're right actually," Trowa said. "A clone would, biologically speaking, entail some sort of reproduction of cells to form the new and genetically identical organism."

Wufei was nodding then as if something had just clicked delightfully into place. "That would take years, but from what we can tell Meister R has only been working with this technology for what? Maybe a few months at most?"

"We've determined fairly certainly that Meister R and M.R. are one in the same," Trowa explained upon seeing the slight look of disconnect on Quatre and Heero's faces.

"We've just got fuckin' M.P. to contend with now," Duo spat out, rubbing at the side of his head unconsciously. His earlier quip filtered back, but he swallowed it down harshly.

"And Sean Davis," Quatre added with a slight wince.

Yes, dammit, him too. Duo's teeth ground together; he'd been explained _that _particular situation just before being released from the hospital. Heero had even shown him the image that Iria Winner had sent over by way of communicator. Duo had decided immediately that something was not right, that Davis was fucking lying, but Heero had been less quick to jump to the conclusion if for no other reason than to try and stay a calm and reasonable force for Duo's sake of recovery.

"Sally's been keeping her eyes and ears open around Davis, but I'm afraid she does not have as much access and contact with him or Une to be much of an authority." The way Wufei spoke about the woman, the slight sadness in the depths of his eyes, led Duo to think about believing in the once contested idea that Sally was 'good for him.'

They sat in silence then, each man mulling over this new and somewhat disturbing idea to its fullest extent. Still things didn't quite add up, but slowly- painfully slowly- pieces seemed to be fitting into the puzzle. Duo hoped that perhaps now that he was out of the hospital the investigation would resume full force, but he had an inkling feeling in his gut that it was going to take some great convincing of not only his newly hovering lover, but of his other concerned companions as well.

He thought about the blank stares and sunken eyes of the 'duplicate' men he'd encountered in the medical facility on L2. He thought about the odd description Heero had given him of having to fight his own body double and how fucking weird that would have been in a reversed situation. Duo wasn't sure he'd have been able to break bones of someone that talked like and reflected the muscular, handsome image of Heero Yuy, even if he was trying to stab him in the ribs. Hell, he probably _would_ have been able to do it, but it surely would have invoked some sort of much needed therapy session or some shit.

"They're made to look like us, act like us, hell even think like us to some extent, huh?" Duo started, his voice sounding far-off. "Plastic surgery these days is an in-and-out job what with regen tech. And besides, our personal information, at least some of it, isn't that well secured- I mean we were Gundam pilots after all."

Heero blinked. "The bodies of Rook and Richardson- it was their blood these people were after, according to the papers you've given us."

"The blood-types logged are a match for myself and Duo," Trowa said, his lips pulling downwards at the corners.

Scratching at the back of his head, Duo cocked brows upwards and began to speak, slow and deliberately. "They're trying to duplicate our blood- or whatever's _in_ our blood- not the entire genetic makeup. Taking out what they need and then pumping in a match to keep us alive then? For whatever fucking reason."

"Or else using the blood matches for their own experimentation," Wufei added with a quiet shrug.

Quatre shook his head in disbelief. "But why go to all this trouble? What with Winner Corp and Preventer and whoever else might be involved."

"Perhaps that's a simple answer." They all turned as Trowa's green eyes began to glow with understanding from beneath his shroud of bangs. "Imagine all the things we are capable of, ex-pilots or not.

"Wufei is a highly ranked Preventer agent. Quatre, you manage a billion dollar corporation with ties to all the colonies and their resource satellites. Heero has his own ties to Relena Darlian and her security- _close_ ties." His eyes stopped on Duo for a moment, hesitated, and then flicked towards the floor. "I- before the war- was a mercenary. Even in peacetime a solider-for-hire such as myself would be quite the acquisition in the wrong hands."

Trowa's vision flicked back up to his braided comrade, but before he could try and complete the thought he'd gotten stuck on earlier, Duo had stepped slightly forward, his brows furrowed deeply. "I'm the fucking God of Death," he muttered, almost as if the words were completely bitter against his tongue.

"I'd probably be useful in a lot of nasty situations. Got eyes in nearly every colony sector, got lines in the Sweepers- and they don't take kindly to people they don't know very well so that's pretty valuable in and of itself. Did some pretty horrible shit during the war- and with whatever duplicate nano-tech they've been able to get from my blood, with a little brainwashing, a glorified body-double could be worse than the real thing," Duo explained, his voice low and even. He looked up. "I guess that goes for all of us."

There was silence then, for an indefinite amount of time, before Wufei spoke. "So how do we propose handling this situation?"

It was an odd thing for him to do, to ask for help and advice like that, so blatantly, but it was clear when Duo's head lifted to look at the other four men that they were _all_ at somewhat of a loss.

Duo shrugged then, the movement somewhat weighty in his muscles. "We all must have some sort of identifying mark not listed on our files, ID's, any intel that's apparently circulating the Earth Sphere."

Wufei nodded at that, but Duo found his eyes flicking to the Japanese man next to him. "For example, Heero, you with that scar on your hip?"

That scar had been quite a topic of conversation between himself and Wufei and even Trowa, but Heero did not realize that, and Duo had to reign in the smirk at the near sheepish look that came across his usually hard features.

Duo craned his neck then. "And Trowa, I'm willing to bet that work of art on your back ain't public knowledge even within Preventer."

He saw Trowa swallow, his vision going sideways to Quatre. Apparently he'd not remembered their shared hotel bedroom a while back.

"And so what about you, Maxwell?" Wufei grunted, trying to ease any ensuing tension. He gestured towards the other man's head. "Your scars are visible, fairly replicable wouldn't you say?"

Duo held a far off look as his fingers ran just above the shaved portion of hair. "Hmm- oh these?" He shook his head and grinned rather forcefully. "No, not these scars for me. Pretty little cigarette burns- lower back. Don't normally talk about it, but the Ozies on Barge weren't particularly fond of my company back in the day."

Quatre grimaced openly. "Oh Duo-"

The braided man gave a dark chuckle. "Nah, nothin' like that Quat, don't you worry. Very few people have gotten to see the Maxwell goods." The wink he shot towards Heero almost didn't make it past the man's unbelieving stare.

Heero's teeth gnashed, trying his best to ignore the out-of-place flirting. "The 'Duo' I came across must not have been- _complete_. He did not harbor your telltale scars."

"Yeah, that or else they're not as smart as we're givin' 'em credit for," Duo snorted out. "But- you're probably right 'Ro. Doesn't seem like they'd have had enough time to create a fully equipped monster-copy in the time I was there- before you guys showed up and the place blew sky high."

Meanwhile, Quatre's fingers were tracing over his midsection, his brows furrowing over hard eyes. "The scar tissue left after Dorothy's foil," he muttered. "I never went through regen afterwards- but perhaps for good reason now."

Wufei's own eyes were tracing downwards towards the floor. Duo watched with curiosity as he bent forward and grabbed at the bottom of his pant leg, lifting up to reveal the crisp black lettering of a tattoo.

"This would count as an identifying feature," he stated, studying the ink that read L5-A0206 running up the edge of his muscular calf, starting just before his knee and moving downward vertically against his skin, though the letters and numbers were denoted horizontally forcing one's eyes to shift slightly in order to read it properly.

"That's new," Duo muttered, leaning forward, his voice barely loud enough for anyone but Wufei to hear.

He shrugged. "I've had it not too long now. But you're right, Maxwell, even Preventer doesn't have this one on file yet."

His precise phrasing made Duo wonder how many other tattoos the man had- more-or-less recently- etched into his body, the thought momentarily enticing him to look, but then almost immediately causing his stomach to clench in guilt at thinking about the Chinese man's body in any other way than completely and totally clothed. Damn his overactive imagination, damn it straight to hell.

As Duo fought with his new internal unrest the entire dynamic of their brief conversation had changed. He heard Trowa and Quatre discussing together in low tones the implications behind the paperwork he'd managed to smuggle back to them. The odd signature of 'M.P.' rather than 'M.R.' had apparently been an ongoing debate amongst the five of them, especially since his release from the hospital. Heero rose silently to head towards the kitchen, his eyes not even glancing to check on Duo. Wufei seemed to be ignoring everyone forcefully, probably caught up in his own thoughts. For a brief second all was right with the world.

Without a word Duo lifted himself from the couch, brushing off the looks Quatre and Trowa shot him, their conversation put on hold for only a second, and he walked towards his bedroom in hopes of retrieving something from the duffel he prayed hadn't been tampered with. But even with their concern for him- _unnecessary_ concern that is- as ex-pilots they all knew and understood the importance of privacy and rifling through one another's things would have been less likely than Heero professing his love in front of every last ex-Gundam pilot.

Wait- Heero had already done just that. In front of each and every one of them- multiple times. Duo suppressed a groan; the man had since gone from one extreme to the other, like Heero witnessing his near death had let loose the flood gates or something. Shit, why was he having such a hard time dealing- this is what he always wanted, wasn't it?

Duo's fingers clasped tightly around the small, cardboard box he'd been hoping to find, stuffed into an unidentifiable compartment in his personal carry-all. He'd just managed to find a nice, comfy spot sitting cross legged on the condo's balcony to light up- staring down the side of the building he'd previously watched Trowa and Heero scale- when a voice from behind him nearly caused him to choke.

"Maxwell, when did you start smoking again?"

He wanted to tell him that he'd never actually stopped, but that would open a whole other jar of worms that he just didn't have the patience for right now. Instead Duo turned to meet Wufei's slightly scowling features with a dark smile. "Since when did you become a tattoo enthusiast?"

Instead of continuing to stare disapprovingly at the cigarette dangling from Duo's curved mouth, Wufei sat down next to him, resting forearms against his bent knees. "Enthusiast?" he bit out. "Hardly- I have three. They all are very important in meaning and design."

Duo shot him a sideways look, blowing smoke from the corner of his mouth in the opposite direction. "So no skull and crossbones or pin-up girls then, eh?"

Ignoring the comment, Wufei lifted his shirt then- to Duo's great surprise- to show off two very different tattoos. The one lining his ribcage was a series of intricate branches harboring many small cherry blossoms, a name almost hidden within the flowers- _Meiran_. The other was situated across his right pectoral muscles, something written in black, Chinese calligraphy against the skin of his chest.

Duo studied it for a moment. "Past, present, future," he read aloud.

Wufei nodded once. "You know Mandarin?"

"Eh." Duo shrugged it off. "You pick up a lot of things traveling through the ESUN no strings attached."

They were quiet then for a long time, sitting comfortably in each other's presence for what seemed like the first time since their past had gotten dredged up in this increasingly infuriating investigation. Duo wasn't even sure why Wufei had decided to seek him out in the first place, certainly not to reveal what appeared to be quite personal markings across his body- right? He was about to voice his internal queries when his eyes spotted something rather alarming as smoke exited in a rapid exhale between his lips.

"Hey, does Sally have eyes on Davis right _now_?"

Wufei looked puzzled for a brief second before his gaze was able to travel along the same thread as Duo's. Instantly his features darkened and he let any composure from the previous moment fly away with a low snarl of anger.

He stood instantly, the action thrusting Duo upwards as well. The braided man had to nearly dig his heels straight into the cement patio to hold him back, fingers clasped around the man's bicep. "Slow your roll, 'Fei," he hissed out. Shit, and they thought _he_ was impulsive.

"With each passing day this man is proving to be less and less trustworthy," Wufei hissed out through clenched teeth, straining against his friend's grip.

Duo hastened to wonder just what possible reason Sean Davis could have for tracking them back to their latest safe-house, but the look of pure hatred in Wufei's dark eyes, and the overwhelming instinct bubbling in his gut, told him that it could not be anything good.

No- the Preventer had become such a black cat in their lives as of late, it _definitely_ could not be anything fucking good.


	23. One Way Or Another

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, mild adult themes, and mild lime/lemon.

**A/N:** Apologies for the slightly long delay, hope this chapter can make up for it! Keep up the amazing reviews, I seriously appreciate them so much!

* * *

** Maxwell**

**Chapter 23: One Way Or Another**

_One Way Or Another - Until The Ribbon Breaks [version]_

He had found himself in bed, exhausted and invigorated, Heero's body pressed against his own in possession, leaning over him on strong forearms. The kiss had been warm, two mouths pressing together, bruising, as though their time together was ticking down, teeth and tongues and lips and heat.

Duo had thrust upwards as his lower lip became entrapped, pressure building within each body, hands roving over hard muscles. Heero's chest, his abdomen, the curve of his sharp hips; Duo's hands had travelled to the edge of boxers still clinging to skin, pulling roughly to reveal his partner's already hardened flesh. Heero had reacted accordingly, moaning into the kiss as fingers found themselves wrapped around him.

"Duo-" he'd gasped into the other man's ear before clutching the lobe between teeth.

Duo had felt the air in his chest leave through a harsh groan. His hand moved quicker against the hardness slicked with pre-cum, his own cock still trapped mercilessly beneath Heero's grinding body.

And then Heero had leaned away, fighting back another moan, pulling Duo's hand off of him and staring down into half-lidded indigo with a piercing look. It had taken only seconds for the rest of their clothing to be removed, ripped away, and thrown to the floor. Duo had lustfully guided the other man's fingers to his entrance, but Heero had pulled back yet again, mimicking the gesture in opposite, placing Duo's hand against his own backside with an almost imperceptible smirk.

Duo had never been inside of him before, after all these years, all their fucks, he'd never experienced anything such as this. Fingers one at a time, silken muscles, groans of appreciation, enveloping heat around his arousal, deeper with every thrust. It hadn't lasted long, but the release, almost simultaneous, had been worth every excruciating moment leading up until that point. Holy fuck.

That had been afterwards. After the left-hook Wufei had impulsively thrown at Sean Davis' smug face after the man had baited him into losing his control. After Duo had been the one to calm him, the only one of them seemingly able to do so. After Quatre had stepped in to ease the situation, do the talking, like the good little politician he'd become. After Trowa had been handed the envelope expressly addressed to him. After Heero had taken the Preventer paperwork expressly addressed to the fuming man Duo was trying to hold back.

The anger had been fueled by Davis' running joke in regards to their apparent incompetence, something that Duo never thought would have had such an obvious effect on their Chinese companion. But then the chiding words had become directed specifically towards a certain 'street rat' and Wufei had simply fucking lost it.

Heero had looked on impassively, even as Duo had to continuously remind himself that he and Wufei were not intimate anymore, they were friends, and that he _loved_ Heero in an entirely different way than he 'loved' Wufei Chang. Still it was nice to have someone so bold to stand up for him, even if the snide remark had been something that barely made a dent in his outward armor nowadays. Even so he knew Heero would have done the same- but only if it had come down to something physical.

Quatre had then tried to make conversation, something strategic in his words that Duo didn't at first catch onto. He mentioned the investigation, slipping Winner Corp into his innocent queries and searching for any foreseeable reaction there.

Sean Davis was careful in his answers, treating Quatre like an old friend if not for only the enjoyment of twisting the knife he'd managed to plunge into Wufei, agent-on-leave. But he'd spoken in a calculative manner, revealing little if nothing about any possible knowledge into exactly what Winner Corp had gotten its fingers into. He was good, but almost too evasive, and in the end Quatre had formed a frown across his features.

When the man had left the apartment the air had grown uncomfortably thick. There was little to no proof yet, but Quatre had reasoned that Davis was just as guilty as Duo- and then Wufei- had pegged him to be. Perhaps it was the empathetic tendencies within the man, or else his ability to deconstruct the way Davis had skirted around the conversation like he'd planned all of his responses beforehand. Duo didn't much care how or why, only that his companions were starting to finally see reason in mistrusting the rookie 'Preventer.'

And then, after more discussion and rehashing and general tearing-out-of-hair, Heero had pulled a groggy looking Duo up off the couch and led him back to one of the guest bedrooms for some much needed recuperation. It had turned into a much different, more _erotic_ form of recuperation, but it had done the job nonetheless.

* * *

When Duo awoke the following morning Heero was in the shower- the braided man having to pointedly restrain himself not to join- and when he padded out to the living room he found Trowa alone on the low couch staring almost unseeingly at a white paper held between thumb and forefinger.

Shit, Duo had nearly forgotten about that- the fucking envelope Davis had so unceremoniously bestowed upon Trowa, spouting off some bullshit about 'finding it' conveniently outside their door before he so brazenly interrupted their somewhat safe solitude.

Duo walked softly towards him, the taller man's back to his own, though by the way his head shifted minutely to the right it was clear he could sense Duo's presence. The scrawled, capital letters jumped out once more, just as they'd done on the many other little gifts of sickening riddles and photographs the five men had received since their preempted 'reunion.'

**A mask to hide behind can never be permanent.**

It was signed M.R. which had once again spurred the topic of conversation regarding infuriating use of initials that Duo was beginning to despise. Too fucking complicated and hard to keep straight in his already convoluted thoughts.

"Hey," Duo said after a few silent moments, because shit, what was he supposed to say anyways? He'd been the only other to receive such a personal cryptic message and look how well that had turned out for him.

Trowa did not turn, only nodded once in an acknowledging greeting. Vaguely Duo wondered where Quatre or even Wufei were at the moment because he wasn't quite sure how to handle the situation. He knew the man well enough, knew he could kill an enemy single-handedly without making a sound, knew he could fly high on a trapeze without the thought of a safety net below, knew he could apparently break into hotel room's undetected, and he knew above all that he held as much regard and love for Quatre Winner as Duo did for Heero Yuy.

In the end he decided to sit, bringing a knee up to rest his chin on and stare at the edge of the thin piece of paper, watching as it didn't even twitch in the other man's incredibly steady grip. "Thanks, Tro," he said softly, watching keenly for reaction through his peripherals.

To his surprise Trowa turned then to quirk an eyebrow. "What for?"

"For getting me out of that damn med facility," Duo responded, stomach clenching for only a moment at the memory.

Trowa shook his head and turned eyes back to the paper. "Not necessary."

Duo snorted a laugh; he did know the man well enough to have expected _that_ sort of bland response. "Look," he started, reining in his amusement. "I haven't told anyone else this because I don't want anyone to start freaking out-"

Green eyes found his again and Duo knew they were both picturing the stone-faced man still taking his sweet time in the shower. Duo lowered his leg and sat up straighter. "_But_, I was kind of in the midst of a seriously fucked up hallucination when you found me."

There was a nod. "Yes, I gathered as much."

Duo had to double take at the response. He gave a sheepish grin. "You didn't tell any of the guys?"

"Why should I?" Trowa spoke in the most matter-of-fact of ways. "It's in the past. You can handle it on your own now, can't you?"

Duo hadn't quite thought that far. It was a seriously fucked up dream-like state he'd been in, complete with the most realistic stench of burning flesh he'd ever experienced past the real-deal. He swallowed once. "Yes, I can."

"Then, no, I won't be telling your _shadow_ or anyone else." Trowa smiled and Duo thought he might choke on the intense amount of air his lungs had decided to suck inwards.

Before he could come up with any type of rebuttal, perhaps a jab at his and Quatre's own, often overprotective, relationship towards one another, the sound of steps coming down the hall alerted him to Wufei practically running towards them across the living room.

"Davis' car is outside again," he explained, voice exceptionally calm. "Except he's not in it."

Duo knew they shouldn't, definitely couldn't, but still as he and Wufei's eyes locked his grin turned feral. "Shall we do a little reconnaissance then?"

Wufei opened his mouth to respond, but then a deep voice from the hallway spoke first. "And here I thought Preventer protocol would always come first?"

Heero joined them, walking slowly and assessing the situation like his mind was ingrained to do. He actually had some semblance of a smirk on his lips and Duo couldn't fight the sudden heat growing in his gut at the oddly arousing sight.

The Chinese man shrugged one shoulder with a scowl. "I'm on-"

"Leave," Heero supplied with an unimpressed look. "We know."

Something red started to burn beneath the man's skin and before Wufei could sink teeth into any form of tirade, Duo interrupted. "It won't hurt to take a peek, Heero."

The man gave him a near chastising look that Duo promptly ignored. "You three go. I'm going to help Quatre with something."

"Help him with what?" Duo wondered just as the blond made an appearance from within the master bedroom.

He held a mischievous light in his aquamarine depths. "Hacking into my own corporation of course."

Duo's eyes flicked back to Heero. "Hacking?"

"I would have asked you, Duo," Quatre explained, leaning against the door-jam. "But Heero offered his expertise."

Desperate for a scathing comment, Duo stood to face Heero, but the other man was too quick, pressing unabashed lips to his own and drawing a wide-eyed look from no one other than the braided man himself. When they pulled apart Heero flicked his head towards the door. "Go ahead and spy. But don't do anything reckless."

With that he walked the necessary steps towards a madly grinning Quatre and they closed the french doors for their apparent computer hacking privacy.

* * *

"So- what the fuck just happened in there?" Duo muttered as the elevator lowered them downwards towards the building's lobby floor.

Trowa was studying his cuticles. "They're going to hack into Winner Corp files."

Duo growled in response. "You know what I mean."

Wufei, though tight-lipped, couldn't fully control his smirk. "I think Yuy's finally coming around to the idea of liking you- as surprising as that might be."

A fist made it powerfully into the man's shoulder. "It's called 'love' 'Fei, why don't you try it sometime?"

He gave Duo a sidelong glance, not once flinching at the contact. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. "That's not really my cup of tea. I don't even '_like_' you, Maxwell. Try '_tolerate_-' that's a better sentiment."

Duo let out a huff of frustration, but rather than becoming another joke he let the subject drop as the three made their way out onto the sidewalk. Wufei's display the day before was enough for him to know the truth anyways.

Outside the sun was shining warm down their backs, no one suspicious hiding in any of the shadows that their eyes darted over; simply put, other than Wufei's obscuring humor, there didn't appear to be anything dangerous or out-of-the ordinary.

Wufei took the lead towards the car, Duo close behind with Trowa taking up the rear. They'd stowed weaponry on their person, but it was becoming rather apparent by the lack of people or movement around them that the extra protection would be unnecessary.

The car had been left open. If Duo had been one to believe in bad omens, this certainly would have qualified. Were they supposed to find something? Was Davis sitting somewhere watching it all take place, laughing his ass off? Was the whole damn thing going to blow sky high any second? He pushed the thoughts away in lieu of the cell-phone Wufei pushed into his fingers after rifling through the glove-compartment. He also came up with a wallet, empty save for Davis' driver's license- and indeed it was him and not whoever was apparently working for Winner Corp- but no registration for the car or anything else for that matter.

"A lead or a trap?" Trowa wondered softly as he leaned back against the car, folding long arms across his chest.

Duo shook his head from side to side, not so much as an answer, just out of habit at having his entire mind turned upside down and rattled a couple of times. He stared at the phone, swiped against the screen to come up with a passcode lock. After a brief second of contemplation, and ignoring the watchful eyes of his companions, he tilted it upwards to receive the sun's reflection, finding the oily fingerprints he'd been expecting, and then trying the combinations of the four indicated numbers. It only took him three tries, miraculously enough.

Then Wufei was snatching the phone from his fingers and brushing through pages of messages, emails, and finally to the call records. "Think you could retrieve his voice mails?"

"You'd have to let me see the damn thing for more than a minute," Duo bit out with a frown. He thought he heard Trowa grunting out a laugh and chose to ignore it. "But, to answer your question, _yes_."

Meanwhile Wufei was scrolling through the call log. "Every one of these calls is to and from the same number."

"Listed?" Trowa prompted.

"No," Wufei shook his head. "But it's from an earth area code, so at least not on-colony."

Duo's eyes rolled. "That narrows it down." But then he focussed forward to stare at the screen. "A boss calling his grunt, maybe."

"Or the other way around," Trowa supplied, his height enabling him to view the phone from his still lax position.

"We could call it," Duo suggested then, because shit, why the hell not?

Wufei's eyes narrowed towards him. "I'm not sure that's our best option."

"And why not?" Duo spat, swiping the cell back with the nimble fingers of an ex-pick-pocket. "What more harm could this possibly do? It's an ass-backwards situation to begin with. We don't know who this guy is, boss or employee or Davis' damn mother for all we know. But we do have this number- we could call it up and say hello."

Trowa pushed off of the car. "Are we going to do that?"

When Wufei did not open his mouth to argue, Duo's eyes gleamed. "Yes, I think we are."

Duo's finger hovered over the call button, but in the same instant his ears pricked at the low rack of a slide ten-feet behind them. It was familiar, ingrained in him since before he could remember, since even before the war and Deathscythe and whatever formal training bullshit G tried to pump into him. It wasn't uncommon on L2 to hear such a sound, the scrape of metal on metal, a magazine spring, the smack of a shell being pushed into place. It took him only a thirtieth of a second to recognize, another thirtieth of a second to evaluate, and another for eyes to lock with the two other pairs that had undoubtably heard the exact same warning he had.

Reaction only took another thirtieth of a second, because they were damned ex-Gundam pilots for god's sake and this was nothing, this was natural, the idea that they might be standing somewhere in broad fucking daylight listening for the sound of someone preparing to shoot them down. There was no need for hesitation, for thought, for second-guessing, there was just pure action, pure instinct that radiated between the men after only a single heartbeat.

They all went down in a thud of limbs and power, reaching for their weapons before they'd even hit the pavement. Duo felt the rush of a bullet fly through the air where they'd been standing adjacently only a second before.

First came the sound of a curse, then another rack of the slide, and finally footsteps running towards them. That's where the shooter had made their mistake. Duo's mouth grinned, all teeth- _big fucking mistake_.

He had his gun, reaching for the safety, mind calculating angles as he bent his head backwards towards a figure shadowed only partially by trees lining the sidewalk. Behind him was open traffic, streaming past the narrow block that wound its way behind the condos, cars zooming past as the light stayed green.

Immediately he decided not to shoot, at least not yet. It would be too fucking risky, if he missed the bullet would travel out into the traffic, wound a civilian. _Not_ an option. And even if he didn't miss, at this range the bullet could rip through the man's flesh, through his bone, and still hit something unintended. Shit, there was too much power in his weapon and not enough leeway.

Duo turned after his half-second decision to see Trowa. He'd have to wait for him, even perhaps Wufei who had managed to find a spot behind the trunk of the car. Trowa had a better angle, he was positioned well enough that a bullet would skim the trees, not the traffic.

He watched in painful slow motion as Trowa's thumb went to remove the safety; he wanted to scream in frustration as things seemed to play out like they were stuck in zero gravity, floating with little dexterity or control. His mind was moving at lighting speed compared to his body, compared to any of their bodies.

Trowa had the safety off, but the other gun fired again.

Missed. Shit, the attacker had been slow as well, the bullet zooming in the space that had recently held Trowa's own frame. It missed easily, like he'd preplanned and couldn't deviate- or else was missing on purpose?

Trowa fired, the bullet burrowing into their attacker's thigh, muscle and blood exploding outward on impact, the close range a brutal punishment. But of course the fucker deserved it.

There was almost immediate shock, the man's gun dropping with a sharp clatter to the ground. Wufei was instantly on his feet, only a few steps to reach out with a powerful hand, hitting the connection between shoulder and neck, sending the attacker instantly to the ground, unconscious.

Duo scrambled to his knees, evaluating the situation, searching out accomplices, eyeing the trees and the building next to them for other enemies. His eyes were almost too slow, too late to notice the long barrel of a gun peeking out from a service entrance to the lobby floor.

Trowa was standing now too, his own instincts kicking in, turning to assess, but it was too late. The gun fired, the crack sharp in the air, a bullet heading straight for the man's chest.


	24. Tell Me What You Saw

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, mild adult themes, and mild lime/lemon.

**A/N:** Here we go, winding down to the climactic ending! I've got it about 95 percent done from here on out (look for about three more upcoming chapters) thanks for those of you who stuck with it till the end. Read? Review?

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 24: Tell Me What You Saw**

_Gold Lion - Yeah Yeah Yeahs_

Duo had never felt this type of adrenaline in his life. Something fueled by fear and anger and shock all wrapped up into a single moment of complete and total 'fuck you' towards whoever it was suddenly controlling their lives like puppets on flimsy string. He was done with it all, not caring, not arguing, just fucking done.

The bodies fell to the ground just as something sharp and metallic managed to scrape a thin line down the outside of his left bicep, cutting through the fabric of his worn t-shirt, just a scrape, but it could have been much more if he'd been only a centimeter off in his action. The man beneath him was stirring immediately, the impact only jarring their thoughts for a second before both Trowa and Duo were scrambling for their weapons again, vision flicking to the building only to be met with the smooth surface of a locked door, no gun or enemy visible, even now mere seconds after the shot had been fired.

They were silent, still on the ground, staring without breathing, eyes combing the surroundings only to come up empty. It might have been a bad thing, they'd not made an ID, but of course they were also not being shot at anymore, so perhaps not such a bad thing after all.

Wufei was the one to finally break the quiet. He was on hands and knees before them, Duo pushing off the pavement to raise up, while Trowa leaned against an arm to make eye contact with the other two ex-pilots.

"Look familiar?" were the first words spoken, Wufei's voice was rough as he splayed a hand towards Duo, a small vivid green dart laying against his upturned palm.

Unfortunately it did look familiar, too fucking familiar. But somehow, looking down at the little dart, Duo's shoulders relaxed a fraction of an inch in realization that it had not been a deadly bullet aimed at their tall comrade, even if the dart held something possibly more dangerous within its hollow tube. It had been the same exact thing that had put Duo so rapidly to sleep, the same thing that had fucked with his muscles, with his body and mind, but still not an immediate death. No, more like a prolonged, mentally torturous death involving tubes and monitors and blood, lots of blood.

Duo swallowed once. "Fuck," he muttered out, the only conceivable thing he could force his mouth to say.

He turned to find Trowa's eyes studying the small dart, something odd in their depths, something like unsteady trepidation. Not a sight Duo was at all used to from the man that could seemingly tame lions with a single, powerful glance. Had he been staring down a bullet, would it have garnered the same reaction? Certainly they'd all stared down their own death more than one time during the war, even now afterwards. But this dart, the meaning behind it, was much more frightening than any thought of true and permanent death.

It was uncertain and that seemed to be what made Duo, and apparently the rest of his comrades, so uneasy.

"I'm the only one left." Trowa's gaze found Duo, the words more of a statement than a question at this point. Everything was becoming real for him, just as it had the seconds before Duo had lost consciousness outside the casino on L2.

The braided man felt his mouth run dry. He could handle it happening to himself, but how was he supposed to comfort his friend? But of course Trowa didn't need comforting, he needed answers like they all did. He needed someone to confirm what he already apparently knew.

MR was after them, wanted _all_ of them, _needed_ all of them, and Trowa was the last one to go. Damn it all and they were getting way too fucking close.

* * *

They made it back inside in less than a minute. Ten minutes later they were traveling in two separate taxis towards a neighborhood north of Sanc to a small house rented by Lucrezia Noin, previously offered to them after she'd been called away for Preventer business on L4. Twenty minutes later they were standing in the small foray, taking in a modestly furnished home with two bedrooms and one bath and a kitchen the size of a closet, but it would do. In their lifetime they'd all been housed in much less accommodating conditions, this was luxurious for an impromptu safe-house.

Duo followed Heero slowly up the stairs towards the master bedroom, something he'd begrudged, but hadn't possessed enough stamina to argue against his fellow companions when they'd made the decision of sleeping arrangements. He sat on the bed and watched Heero setting up his laptop, charging a cellular phone, dumping their duffels in the corner and generally trying to distribute what little they had gathered with them of their lives thus far.

_"Look at me, Quat." _

_"All that we've got that you don't are cell phones."_

_"But what have I got that you don't?" _

He stretched his arms above his head, the tension releasing ever slightly from his muscles with the effort. Duo thought that maybe he was a bit closer to the answer he owed Quatre- but still he wasn't quite certain.

Heero sat down next to him, fumbling, and it was odd to see the man in such a way that he actually seemed- _nervous_.

"Alright?" Duo muttered, eyes slanting to capture the other man's true reaction.

Heero shrugged. "Are you?"

Of course he would fucking deflect the question, only seemed natural what with everything else going on lately. Duo sighed. "I'm fine- you know you don't have to follow me around all the time. I can take care of myself."

There was a nod and then Heero fit him with a quirk of the brow. "Do you want me to leave?"

Damned his gut for clenching at simply the thought. Duo shook his head. "No, I don't."

There was silence then and Duo swallowed down the words bubbling up in his throat in light of a better and more pressing subject at hand. "I've been doing some thinking on the doc that had me in lock-up at the med facility. Meister R."

Heero ran fingers over the edge of the bed where the braid fell between them, but didn't say anything, only waited for the other man to continue. Duo licked his lips. "He couldn't have been in charge- he was anxious and all-too forthcoming. There are other people involved here."

"Sean Davis?" Heero supplied, eyes not bothering to look up in Duo's own skeptical ones. It was still a long-shot, he knew that, to accuse a Preventer of such a thing. But they'd been accruing evidence, hadn't they? Fucking circumstantial, but something nonetheless. And if he was going to trust anyone's judgement through the Sphere it was going to be his fellow ex-pilot's.

"If what Trowa says is true, these people are after our abilities- they want control over five of the most powerful and influential men in the Sphere- but recreating us for that purpose can only lead to one thing."

Heero looked grim when their eyes finally met. "War. Power hungry people only ever lead to war."

Duo averted his vision at the tone. "You said that Menta Rolland seemed concerned about her father. Perhaps he's being held against his will? Made to experiment because of his ties to the other scientists during the war?"

"Wufei and I have already logged that as a distinct possibility." Heero too lowered his eyes, but only to hide them from Duo's now incredulous gaze. Had the two been managing to work together again? He damn well hoped so, they made nearly as good as team as he and Heero ever did.

"Duo-" his name sounded foreign in his own ears for some reason. Still Heero wouldn't look at him. "After Trowa rescued you- after he met up with us- you said something-"

The braided man felt his entire body stiffen. Said something? Shit, that could mean anything. Had Trowa not been totally truthful with him earlier? Perhaps Heero knew more than he needed to already.

Fingers brushed against his thigh. "You said that Trowa had 'put out the fire.'"

Duo tried hard to fight back a shudder at the all too familiar memory. Hell, now was not the time for this. He shook his head vehemently. "Just like Tro said, I lost a lot of blood. I was severely out of it. Shit, I mean-"

Heero had grabbed his wrist then, stalling the other man's words abruptly with his own interjected ones. "I don't need to know, Duo. I'm sorry for bringing any of it up. But I do need you to understand that I am here- if you need to- talk about anything."

Eyes feeling heavy in his skull, Duo stared at him, not at first comprehending the words that had just fallen in the air between them. Who was this man and what had he done with Heero Yuy?

Duo let a soft smirk play at his lips. "Okay," he said, for lack of a better response. In reality, he had no fucking clue what to say. This empathy was certainly new for their sorted relationship.

Heero seemed satisfied by that, but he too acted unsure and odd over what had just transpired between them. It would just take practice, Duo supposed with a rather amused laugh all to himself. A shit-ton of practice.

* * *

"We've got to try it- better than nothing right now at least."

Wufei was staring with sharp eyes from his position in between Heero and Duo's frames, having offered the window seat to his still 'recovering' friend- fucking nice of him in an odd sort of Chang-like way.

Duo, of course, was speaking of the cellphone they had since retrieved from Sean Davis' vehicle before all hell had literally broken loose not more than an hour beforehand. Trowa turned ever slightly from his position in the passenger seat to observe Duo wordlessly, while Quatre focussed his attention on driving and perhaps organizing his thoughts for their upcoming- and unscheduled- meeting at the Winner Corp offices. Heero's limited hacking had proved to be quite interesting- hell, go figure.

Wufei had yet to disagree like Duo had been expecting him to do, and so he held the phone to his ear to wait for the inevitable- probably a voicemail box.

The phone rang once, twice, three times. Duo was starting to deflate, realizing nothing was going to happen, just as Wufei could have told him, just as his subconscious could have predicted. But then there was an unmistakable click and the sound of hurried movement on the other end.

"What the hell is going on? Where are you?" The voice was deep, slightly mechanical coming through the tech, but still somehow familiar. Angry and annoyed.

Duo chose not to answer, instead listening for background noise- anything at all to give him a damned clue. Shit, but it was hard to keep himself from answering the voice, questioning, _threatening_.

"Hello?" the man asked, sounding even more annoyed now- even more familiar. And yet, somehow not quite who Duo might have predicted.

With a tightening of his jaw Duo licked at his lower lip. "Who is this?" he wondered, like he had every right to ask, like he'd just accidentally dialed the wrong number and needed the confirmation.

There was a long pause and for a second he thought he might have gone too far, gotten too cocky, too fucking confident, but then the man was back- this time sounding even harsher than before. "No, who are _you_?"

"You're guys failed- they're dead now," Duo ventured to bluff, ignoring the dark eyes he received from the men on either side of him. "And now we're coming for you."

His voice had grown exponentially deeper in the last seconds of this odd conversation. Something about the man he was speaking with, something about the familiarity, it brought that edge out of him. Fucking Shinigami. Everything was flooding back to him now; photographs, Heero's dead body, Sean Davis, those hallucinations, the _blood_.

"Maxwell?" The sound of his own name made his mind jump back to reality.

Duo frowned. "You know my name- doesn't seem fair that I don't know yours."

"Life's not fair, is it?" the voice sneered back at him.

"Yeah, and it's about to get really unfair for you especially," Duo shot back, catching Wufei's wrist before his hand could make contact with the phone still pressed to his ear.

The man just laughed. "You're nowhere."

"Look outside."

Duo listened carefully as a chair scraped against hardwood floor, the sound of leather shoes clipping something- an edge of a table or desk- the sound of thick, venetian blinds. Then there came another chuckle, this one less confident though. "You're nowhere," the man said again, some odd mixture of anxiety and relief flooding his tone.

"Believe what you want or not," Duo replied cooly. "But believe me when I say that we'll be seeing you very soon- and we'll be taking a nice helicopter ride, just like the one you used to dispose of your little experiment. But trust me, you won't be as reluctant to die as your 'Heero Yuy' probably was. No, after I'm done, you'll be begging me to jump out- fucking count on it."

And with that he ripped the phone from his ear and dropped the call, nothing but a snarl resting on his lips as he met Quatre's eyes in the rearview mirror. No one said anything for several long minutes, perhaps unsure of whether that warranted a discussion or not.

Wufei was the first brave soul- hell incredibly brave considering the tone he chose to go with. "Was that entirely necessary?"

Duo fit him with a sidelong glance. "You're going to think I'm crazy, but that guy sounded like someone we know."

"Who?" Heero was the second brave soul, his voice low, but intrigued- at least not sardonic like Wufei's.

"Quinze."

"Not possible." Wufei was shaking his head, placing arms over his chest vehemently disagreeing before anything more could be said on the matter.

Duo rolled his eyes. "You don't think I don't realize it's not fucking possible? But shit, a lot of things lately don't seem possible and yet they still keep happening, don't they?"

He turned to Heero then to see the man's reaction, but there was nothing but an utterly blank face to stare at. Duo looked to Trowa, but the man had averted his eyes, perhaps feigning deep thought. Next was Quatre, but his vision was focussed on the road ahead of them now.

With great irritation, Duo wrenched his vision back to Wufei. "Well?"

The man was chewing at the inside of his lip, not an action Duo had ever seen him perform before. He was nervous, or perhaps begrudging to admit that the idea was not so farfetched after all. "It would account for one thing," Wufei began slowly. "The M.P. initials. We know Quinze's involvement with the man- he was somewhat obsessive towards the end."

"The identity 'Milliardo Peacecraft' doesn't exist anymore," Heero supplied, now staring a hole in the seat before him.

Duo pulled at the joints on his right hand. "Maybe all the more reason to use the initials to cover for someone else."

Quatre's eyes flickered in the mirror again. "There seems to be an awful lot of people piling up in our list of suspects. You don't think they could actually all be involved?"

Trowa's hand waved out the front windshield. "I think we'll be narrowing it down shortly," he said as the vehicle pulled into Winner Corp's parking garage, the next bridge of their ongoing journey falling into place.

* * *

They were sitting in a conference room, one vaguely reminiscent of the space Duo and Wufei had occupied many days ago upon their first visit to Winner Corp in search of Quatre. Now, said man- the CEO, was standing with shoulders hovering over firmly placed hands on the table-top, leaning forward with an entirely intimidating expression on his usually composed features. Quite frankly, Quatre Raberba Winner was fucking pissed.

"Iria this is a very serious matter," Quatre said to the woman sitting across from him, his other four companions scattered about the room trying to come off as impartial observers. His voice was soft, but eyes piercing.

Iria sat stiff-backed in her chair. "And so is the matter of hacking into our servers,_ little _brother."

Duo winced at that, but Quatre did not seem phased by the mention of his relative age- hell, he'd probably gotten quite used to it over the years. So instead of responding in kind, he tapped a stiff forefinger towards the papers he'd spread out on the table between them.

"_Our_ servers, yes. Regardless of how I have retrieved this information- _our_ servers have shown me a research program that has been hidden from public records- including any records that the CEO might have access to, which at this current juncture seems- for a lack of a better word- entirely _shady_."

After holding her brother's gaze for a few heartbeats, Iria's eyes averted to the papers, scanning them with a knowing look that set Duo- and presumably everyone's- teeth on edge. "The man behind this research is no longer employed with the Winner Corporation."

"Yes, that much is clear to me," Quatre responded, finally taking the chair he'd so impulsively stood from a few moments before. "What I want to know now is why his grant proposal was published in a Sphere wide news article."

"We denied the grant proposal-"

Quatre's fingers curled into fists. "Iria."

She met him with a sharp frown. "I do not know why it was published- all I know is that once we came across the underlying meaning of the research we severed ties with the man immediately- Sean Davis, if I recall correctly."

Sean Davis. There it was again, the name that seemed to crop up all around them with little to no fucking explanation. Duo watched as the wheels in Quatre's brain could practically be seen spinning on their axis.

"This man?" he asked, picking up the photograph of the older, graying employee that Iria had sent to them days before during their communicator conversation.

Iria nodded once, apparently realizing the depth at which she'd now dug herself down. She frowned. "It's not like I know him personally, Quatre."

Quatre replaced the image back onto the stack of his recent intel, ignoring the comment. "Underlying meaning," he repeated, voice steady.

Duo's eyes flicked to Wufei who caught his gaze pointedly before the Preventer opened his mouth to finally interject. "This former employee wanted to use Winner Corp funds to further his research into blood cell replication."

Iria swiveled to stare at him, the expression on her face giving away more than necessary. She was first shocked and then clearly defeated. "Yes," she whispered, her shoulders slumping.

"This man, Sean Davis- whether he be in relation to Agent Davis or not- would have been desperate for funds," Quatre said then as he stared down his sister's ever-weakening composure.

Heero grunted once, pushing off from the wall he'd been leaning against. "Desperate enough to publish the article himself in hopes of an interested party to back his research?"

Duo walked towards the table, fingers going to splay against the wood at the head of it. "The man I spoke to on the phone earlier- I couldn't make out much, but wherever he was it sounded like an office. No outside noise, no other voices. A secure space, behind locked doors maybe." He specifically left out the part about his idea as to just who the man's identity was, as shit he didn't need another lecture about plausibility right now.

"The benefactor, perhaps?" Trowa ventured from his place in the corner nearest a large, glass window, vision not leaving the un-secure streets below.

"Perhaps our two Sean Davis' might actually not be the same." Wufei made his way towards Iria now, gesturing towards the image in front of her.

"Speculatively," Duo added for good measure, just a hint of a smirk attacking his lips.

But Wufei ignored the jab intended for him, dodging it in lieu of something more interesting. He picked up the image between thumb and forefinger, studying it closely. "Have you ever met a Menta Rolland?" he asked, directing the question towards the woman next to him.

Iria shook her head slowly, eyes blinking. "I-I don't know. I meet with a lot of people- I suppose- maybe." Her voice cracked as a flush ran over her cheeks.

Suddenly Quatre was on his feet again, hand pushing forward to clasp over his sister's own. "It's alright. You've been helpful, sister." He smiled down at her, trying to calm and reassure.

Wufei, in his own right, stepped back nearly tripping over Heero as the man came to pluck the photograph from the other's fingers. He stared at it through narrowed vision and then spun the image to pan it across the awaiting eyes scattered throughout the room. Red hair, specked with gray. A sharp nose, blue eyes.

"A family resemblance," he stated. "Meister R?"

Duo's mouth hung open for a fraction of a second. "Held against his will- or the mastermind behind the whole thing?"

Quatre tore his eyes away from the image of Sean Davis to focus back on Iria. "I'll need a list of all the hospitals and facilities cued for the renewal program."

As if their mind's were suddenly linked, all five men were filtering towards the room's entrance, Quatre and Wufei gathering up the papers and photographs still staring up at them from the conference table.

"Where are you going?" Iria asked, standing now in somewhat of a panic.

Quatre looked to her, mouth set in a grim line. "We've got to get to Preventer Headquarters- there are a few important questions we need to ask of a certain Commander Une."


	25. When My Back's Against The Wall

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, mild adult themes, and mild lime/lemon.

**A/N:** Seriously, it's getting good. These last few chapters have definitely been the most fun to write. Enjoy. Read? Review?

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 25: When My Back's Against The Wall**

_Fighting - Saints of Valory_

"This is ridiculous!"

The only thing Duo thought ridiculous about this situation was how Une herself was trying to skirt around the issue that they had near definitive proof for. But shit, at least things were getting interesting now- he'd never been one to back down from a good argument.

Duo pushed the cell phone they'd retrieved from Sean Davis' vehicle across the woman's cherry-wood desk. "Look familiar?"

Une's manicured fingers tapped against the desktop as she stared down at the device. "Preventer issue," she confirmed gruffly before glaring upwards. "Where did you get this?"

"It's Sean Davis' device," Wufei explained, a major lack of composure in his tone. "Go ahead, look at the call log."

The two men watched as the woman picked up the phone with hesitance, her eyes glancing between them before fingers swiped against the screen which Duo had since permanently de-secured. They noticed carefully her expression and then both let their shoulder's slacken as Une's eyes narrowed in suspicion a few seconds later.

"And you have spoken to whoever this number belongs to I suppose?" the woman asked, not bothering to look up towards them.

Duo might have laughed at her accuracy if it were happening under better circumstances. Instead he merely shrugged. "I'm sure the line's disconnected by now. Do you know if it's actually his?"

Une just stared at the phone. "I'm not certain. Someone would have to check inventory logs."

Wufei was seemingly less patient. "Are you willing to listen to us now?" he bit out, the words finally pulling Une's vision back upwards.

She stared at them, first studying, then fitting them with a perfectly pleasant smile. Except that Une was not known for perfectly pleasant smiles. Shit, Duo knew it couldn't be that fucking easy.

The woman sighed. "I feel the need to share with you that Sean Davis turned in his resignation to this organization a little over twenty-four hours ago."

Twenty-four hours ago. Damn, that meant that when he'd visited them at the Winner safe-house he'd already severed ties with Preventer. The Meister R idea was becoming more and more plausible now.

Duo's teeth clenched. "Did he say why?"

"I cannot disclose that information to you," Une responded, meeting his harsh gaze evenly.

"You do realize that only worsens our case against the man," Wufei spat back.

Une's lips were pulled down sharply at the corners. "There is no case-"

"The hell there isn't, because Prev's involved in this, one way or another," Duo laughed out, something almost hysterical in the sound. "I finally think I get it now- Preventer's hot on the trail of people who threw out a body that sure as shit looked a lot like Heero Yuy. But they know it's not- they know it's not him, can't be him, because Prev just ain't that stupid."

"Duo-" Wufei was trying to warn him off the rant, but Duo was having none of it, ignoring him pointedly.

"You use us as bait- let things play out like they're supposed to. You know about the grant proposal because everyone in the entire Sphere who reads the news knows about it. But you also know about Winner Corp's involvement- so you're getting warmer, but you still need your trump card." Duo took a breath to steady himself. "You need the Gundam pilots back together- because that's what M.R. needs and in order to investigate further, to get the evidence and leads that you need you have to let the research take place- have to let me get taken- have to let them take cheap shots at Barton. Because that's all that matters, right Une- is that Prev get's the guy- no matter the consequences. That's your job, to prevent things from escalating, regardless of who you hurt in the process."

At some point during his monologue Duo had come to stand over Une's desk, intimidating just as Quatre had done earlier at his company offices. The woman was staring up at him in- could that have actually been shock? Fuck, never thought he'd see the day.

After a few seconds of sharp silence Une fitted them both with a dark glare. "Sean Davis resigned because he had reason to believe that his family was in danger because of- _your_ investigation."

At that Duo found his body recoiling away from her desk. He furrowed his brows. "Family?"

Une's lips pursed. "Yes. He's married- he has a child. But I suppose that idea of normalcy is probably too hard for you- or your comrade's outside- to wrap your heads around."

_Married. Child._ Duo felt his skull flood with a sensation of lightheadedness. When he met Wufei's gaze he found a mirrored expression of confusion- like they'd both just been sucker punched in the solar plexus, winded and dazed.

Une sucked in a breath. "Preventer has been using you, yes. But Davis was there to keep tabs on you- to _protect_ you from whoever it is that wants you dead."

* * *

"No fucking way- it's too dangerous."

Trowa just stared at him, that little imperceptible amusement showing through the blankness. "_That_ coming from _you_?"

Duo's teeth gnawed at his lip. "Quat, back me up here," he all but pleaded.

Quatre too was staring at him, but with less condescension at least. "You'll think I've gone crazy- but I agree with Trowa on this one."

Heero's hand found its way to Duo's shoulder before he could jump up in frustration. "It's a solid plan," he explained calmly into his ear.

Duo shook the fingers away, but didn't bother with anymore arguments. He looked to Wufei then, but there were going to be few things leaving that man's mouth now for a long while. He'd still not quite recovered from the realization that they might've pinned the wrong guy this entire time, and a fellow agent to boot.

Quatre brushed his palm against the table, smoothing out the large blu-print he had laid out across its surface. "The schematics Iria sent over show a helipad-" he reached for a set of small photographs then. "And these images show that it is still highly operational, despite Winner Corp's ongoing refurbishment of Med Facility E-251."

"And it is only fifty miles south of where 'Heero's' body was found," Trowa supplied, the words flowing succinctly along with Quatre's explanation.

Yes, Duo had heard this all before- two other times to be exact. Shit, he didn't need a rehashing, he just couldn't bring himself to believe that Trowa allowing himself to blatantly be captured was a good fucking idea.

Of course if it had been him in the same position...he could feel Heero's eyes on the back of his neck as if the man could somehow read his mind. Hell, he probably could, bionic as he seemed to be.

"We definitely don't have Preventer's help in this anymore," Duo grumbled out. "Une was explicit in that. There's no Agent Davis here to stalk us and make sure we don't all get shot in the head."

"We've pulled off harder stunts than this before." Quatre shrugged off the other man's abnormal concern.

Duo grabbed the photographs out of the blond's hand, gave them a second's glance, and then threw them back on the table. Fuck, he had nothing else to say, they were right, it was as good a plan as any.

* * *

Trowa and Quatre checked into the hotel together at three o'clock.

At three-thirty, Heero still hadn't made a tail.

By four o'clock the three ex-pilots, still sitting slumped in the compact car they'd borrowed from Sally, had grown restless. Quatre had missed his hourly check-in.

By four-fifteen Wufei tried Quatre's cellphone and received no answer. Not entirely suspicious in and of itself, but it had been a line to a pre-payed cell, one they'd bought for emergency use to stay in communication without interference from taps or any other bullshit comm monitoring, so in all likelihood he should have picked up.

At four-thirty they went to investigate.

They were dressed in the most inconspicuous clothing possible. Duo had hidden his braid down a hooded jumper, while Wufei and Heero wore caps low over their eyes. But still, somehow it felt like they were being noticed. Probably because, unlike their braided companion, the other two looked as though they were _trying_ to blend in.

But even so they made it past the front desk with nothing more than a 'hello' to the clerk there- a young woman only half paying attention as she peaked over her glossy magazine. A good thing for them, but not a good sign for the building's security. Someone with a sawed-off shot-gun could have just as likely waltzed through the lobby and nobody would have been the wiser.

When they got to the room marked 606 the card-reader was broken. Or more accurately the card-reader was marginally okay, but the entire door jam was splintered where someone had used something like a crowbar to pry it open.

Out of old habit the three filed in around the frame, Heero and Duo on one side and Wufei leaning against the other. With a swift kick Heero shoved open the door and Wufei dropped to his knees, gun cocked and ready, spinning around to the doorway, the general idea being that if someone were still in the room they'd aim high where the presumed mass should be.

But there was nobody in the room.

"Shit," Duo breathed out as the three took in the small hotel room. It was entirely trashed, without a trace of their comrades left behind.

"This is what we wanted to happen- wasn't this our objective?" Wufei did not sound entirely certain of the words tumbling from his own mouth.

Duo nodded once, kicking at some crumpled sheets on the floor. "Yeah, but we were supposed to follow- and I didn't think they'd fuckin' take Quat too. Why would they bother with him?"

"Once the replicas are complete they'd need to dispose of the originals." Heero's voice cut through the room like a knife.

Duo felt his stomach begin to boil at the thought. He swallowed back the growing lump in his throat with a scowl. "We can still follow- Quatre was almost certain they'd be headed for the facility south of Sanc."

Wufei looked between them with a solemn frown. "Right now it appears that that is our only option."

* * *

Between them they had three Glocks, about forty-seven rounds, a flick-knife, and nothing to fucking lose. They were three up against who knows how many. They had, presumably, very little time and nearly no element of surprise. They were being watched, probably photographed for all that was worth at this point. Maybe even being laughed at from behind a monitor somewhere unknown.

It was absolutely one hundred percent hopeless. But that's how they'd planned it.

"Don't fucking mess with ex-Gundam pilots," Duo had muttered on more than one occasion during their drive to Med Facility E-251. It was that sentiment that led them forward towards the uncertain fate of themselves and their comrades.

Waiting was always the part that Duo hated the most. Waiting before the war, waiting during the war, waiting after the war- didn't fucking matter, he hated all of it. Sometimes earth seemed to spin fast, sometimes slow. Tonight it had chosen slow. It would still be a while before the sun fully dipped below the horizon, plunging their surroundings into complete darkness instead of purple-grey dusk. At least on the colonies these things were more predictable, more stable, more accurate.

Several blocks from the facility they'd stopped at a convenience station, bought one of those plastic red cans for gas, a pack of overpriced water that came in glass bottles- something Duo never would have been compelled to purchase under any other circumstances- a handful of detailing rags, and a small, metallic lighter.

The rest of the way to the facility Duo and Heero hung the bottles outside their windows to empty. They parked down a block, left the car to sit in an alleyway mostly undisturbed by traffic, and Duo carefully divvied out the gas into each container, fitting it with a rag rolled down the glass necks, half-in, half-out. By the time he'd finished with the task they each carried two Molotov Cocktails, keeping their guns tucked at their backs, and made their way slowly towards the eastern side of the facility.

According to Quatre's intel these were the buildings scheduled last for referb and so proved to be good scrap for Duo's little diversion to take a hold of. There was a gate surrounding the entire thing- a precaution left-over from wartime- probably fitted with security or electric currents, but they weren't going to chance it and find out anyways. Duo lit Heero's first, watching as he hurled the glowing bottles up and over in a perfect arc to come into contact with the nearest structure's foundation. Then Wufei's, then his own. They exploded on the ground creating illuminated pools of burning liquid, crawling and licking at the vulnerable building.

For a moment the three men stood and admired their work. Two minutes later they'd found a crouched space across the street between what looked like tenement houses built decades ago. Four minutes later the sounds of sirens could be heard in the distance, making their way towards the ever-growing flames.

When the fire-engines arrived the gate system opened automatically to retrieve them and that's when they made their move. The three men jutted out from their hiding spot, running hard to keep pace, finding the last vehicle's blind-spot and edging along it through the open gate, undetected save for the blair of sirens now assaulting the facility's grounds.

Not fool-proof, but it had gotten them in and provided distraction and now was when the real plan started.

It had been Duo's idea to split up, cover more ground. Heero had been an adamant asshole about the whole thing, but surprisingly enough Wufei had agreed to it. Two against one, Duo had tried not to gloat about it. Little fucking victories and all. And so now, here he was, in stealth mode- like being holed up inside of his Deathscythe once again, silent and concealed and utterly deadly. He thought of the faces he'd seen during the war, the trembling lips, the shock, the light in their eyes just before the God of Death cut them down. Hell, he'd always liked that part- as sick as it seemed. He liked to be in charge, to know what was coming before anyone else, he fucking lived for shit like this.

By now he was sixty yards off from the fire, the sound of sirens still plentiful in the air, and the barest hint of smoke poking at something he was trying to suppress deep within his subconscious.

They'd know they were hear now, or at least predict that they were, but that was really okay. Fuck, if M.R. and Quinze and even Sean Davis for all they still knew were here waiting for them, it seemed only fitting to make such an entrance as this.

Duo moved slowly through the shadows, searching for something he wasn't sure he wanted to find. The helipad would be his first objective, but that was off the ground level, resting somewhere inward on one of the main buildings, several stories above his head. So instead he allowed himself a bit of leeway to subdue his curiosity.

He followed the cinderblock wall of what appeared to be a deserted office space, only two stories with square windows lining each floor and two entrances with thick plastic taped to where there presumably used to be automatic doors. When he came to a corner Duo kicked at a rock beneath his boot, sending the object flying forward and into an open pathway of dead space. There was a gravelly sound of impact, but when no alarms squealed to life nor any itchy trigger fingers enabled, Duo stepped around the sharp edge and headed across the path towards the next building in the campus.

Fuck, it was too easy. He knew it would be, he knew it from the start of the entire scheme, but the idea still sent a soft electricity through his bones. He heard the first sound of human contact three feet into the safety of the building's inky shadows. Footsteps, unmistakable, a clip of soft material- leather- against slick ground.

Duo slipped along the wall as quickly as he could staying so silent. At the corner he turned, holding a breath to peer through the night at what looked like half of a building still standing raggedly over partially tiled floor- the roof was gone and what stood left were two exterior walls to create something out of memories he still harbored from the war. It was surrounded by construction grade flood lamps and a few scattered signs denoting the Winner Corp logo and warning against trespassers. How convenient.

At its center stood a figure, a man. Duo's fists clenched to fight down the adrenaline that shot up through his veins at the sight.

The man was turned half-way from him, forty yards away, but he was still noticeable enough to strike familiarity. That sheath of white hair flowing around a thin skull, pale skin pulled over sharp bones. He was older now- even more skeletal in appearance than during the war. There were a few pinkish looking scars running up the side of his face, a chunk of ear peaking out of scar-tissue when he turned his head. But it was still undeniable.

Oh Wufei would be so pissed when he found out. The 'I told you so' played against Duo's lips just thinking about it.

And still, just to be one hundred percent, Duo reached in his pocket to retrieve the cell-phone they'd confiscated. He redialed the last- and only- number on file. Fifty yards away Quinze reached into the pocket of his jacket and glanced at the caller ID of his own phone.

_Gotcha_. Duo's lips twitched into a wide smile.

He got ready for the voice to come as he watched Quinze run a long finger against the screen. "What?" it snapped, uncanny as Duo observed the word leave the man's mouth a millisecond before it reached his own ear.

"How's it going?" he wondered, entirely genial.

Quinze growled. "What do you want?"

"I just thought I'd call to check up on you, pal."

"I'm going to kill you."

"Plenty have tried, but clearly no one has succeeded," Duo responded casually.

"Where are you?"

"Not about to tell you that, now am I?" Duo crooned into the phone. "Maybe I'm right behind you- or off-earth somewhere."

He watched Quinze twitch in place, looking around just to be sure. Duo fought down an internal laugh. The voice growled again in frustration. "You're here. You've been throwing gasoline bombs over my fence."

Duo couldn't stop his smile. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Quinze chose a different approach. "I'm not scared of you. Any of you."

Duo let out a rather contented sigh. "And that is going to be your biggest fucking mistake."

He hung up then, abruptly, and watched for the other man's reaction. It was limited by the distance, but Duo could see that he'd definitely ruffled some feathers. Sweet fucking revenge. Finally, they were getting somewhere.

Duo stood there then, for a long while, just watching. Quinze paced a few times and then proceeded to skirt around one of the building's remaining walls. A few seconds later the sound of an engine being revved to life startled Duo, but he stood his ground, watching as a small, military looking jeep made its way forward, turning down the path that separated himself from the oddly lit area, and sped away into the darkness.

The place must have been a lot fucking bigger than he'd though if Quinze needed a jeep to get to wherever it was he was going. Maybe to the helipad, maybe to Quatre and Trowa. Shit, Duo decided not to think about that. He considered for a moment about checking in with Heero or Wufei, but then after a tiny, internal debate, decided against it. They were busy, just as he was, and if need be they'd make the necessary contact. So in the end, his curiosity won out again.

He slunk across the pathway Quinze had just used as a makeshift road and towards the harshly lit space, the glowing light pulling him in like a moth. Duo felt for his weapons as he walked, careful to keep his eyes darting about him. He was still carrying a Glock, but the addition of a trusty flick-knife at his ankle was an effective tool in at least making him feel a bit more prepared for the unknown he was so determined to barrel into.

At first look the space seemed innocuous, much like a crumbling piece of what once was perhaps an entire three stories worth of hospital rooms should look like. But then he saw it- or rather _them_. Those damn fucking photographs.

He padded noiselessly along the grungy tile floor, his body being led by vision now strung straight to the structure's corner, lit in glaring white from the lamps set up near the building's mouth of an entrance. There was a table, metal with what was probably old stains of blood along its surface, and then just beyond it, past a few stools that looked clean and recently used, a ten foot tall expanse of wall covered in what he could only describe as his _life_.

But not just his life. Quatre's and Trowa's and Wufei's...and Heero's.

It shouldn't have surprised him, it shouldn't have sent pangs through his chest, it shouldn't have caused his lungs to stricken, it shouldn't have had any effect on him whatsoever. Most of the images he'd seen before. Some from the nice little packet he'd received back before Preventer had found him. The one of Trowa and Heero, much too close. The one of Wufei's body wrapped around his own, half-naked and tattoo-less.

He swallowed hard, unable to tear his eyes away. There were others too, probably hundreds of them, some overlapping, some larger, some smaller, taped up to the wall and just stuck there, taunting him. A photograph of Relena, Heero lurking in the shadows. Trowa after a performance on some unknown colony, still in costume. Quatre in suit and tie sitting behind a conference table, pen in hand to sign whatever proffered documents lay before him. Wufei, uniform neat and pressed, doling out orders to Preventer forces just barely younger than himself.

And there, right smack in the middle, he found himself. Younger than he was now, no scars to mar his features just yet, a shock of hawaiian shirt sticking next to him. Aboard a Sweeper vessel, bargaining, perhaps arguing; he couldn't tell, he couldn't remember. His name was written in black ink, all too familiar block lettering, just below on a measly looking square of paper pinned betwixt smaller, grainier photos. _Maxwell_.

He looked and found the other's names too. Beneath Quatre's there were notes scrawled in handwriting he couldn't make out. There too, beneath Heero's and Wufei's. He and Trowa were the only ones without.

Notes, data perhaps. They'd not gotten far enough along with his own double, and apparently not gotten anywhere with Trowa's. Thank God for small favors, he supposed half-heartedly before catching himself with a bite to his tongue.

The second of self-imposed pain brought him back to reality with a sharp sensation of whiplash. Duo blinked up at the photographs and stood entirely still when he heard the gun cocking at his back.

It had taken longer than he'd thought, but he was ready for it, now more than ever before.


	26. I'm Gonna Come Out Fighting

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, mild adult themes, and mild lime/lemon.

**A/N:** Seriously, it's getting good. These last few chapters have definitely been the most fun to write. Enjoy. Read? Review?

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 26: I'm Gonna Come Out Fighting**

_Fighting - Saints of Valory_

"Hand over any weapons. All of them."

The voice was familiar, though not exactly who he'd been expecting. But shit, he couldn't win them all, could he? Duo turned slowly, hands raising to shoulder height and stared the man down. It was all suddenly coming together.

"Getting worried, Rolland?" The man barely flinched at the name, but Duo knew he'd said the right thing. He couldn't hide behind initials any longer.

"Hand them over, Maxwell."

"Make me."

The 'good doctor' went still and waited, his eyes narrowing, but only for a second before he abruptly raised his right arm. He waved two men over, more of Quinze's clones, like the one's on L2 no less, maybe one in the same. It was uncanny and sure as shit frightening at first, but once Duo had wrapped his head around it and stared down those glassy eyes he was able to grasp reality once again.

_Wufei. Quatre_. They stared at him, not registering anything other than waiting for whatever order Rolland was presumably going to give them in the next few seconds. He wondered vaguely if they even needed to worry about identifying marks like scars and tattoos. It seemed like it was pretty damn easy to tell them apart from the real thing. Maybe they were still in beta.

And then a thought popped into his head, the anxiety that he might not be able to fight against them or that they might be evenly matched. But he was _real_. They were just imitations. He was Duo Maxwell, in the flesh. No scratch that, _not_ Duo, _Shinigami_. Oh they were so fucked.

"Not a fair fight," Duo said.

Rolland shook his head. "You should have thought of that earlier."

"No. Not fair to _them_," Duo answered him, that telltale smile slithering across his lips. Hell, if these guys were going to be so ignorant this might actually be fun. He turned his vision to the two look-a-likes. "You guys enjoy the land of the living?"

'Quatre' and 'Wufei' nodded, smiling at him as if picturing the beating they assumed was about to take place. Yeah, definitely not the real fucking deal. He met their grins cheekily. "You want to stay in this land longer than the next two minutes?"

They still kept smiling stupidly and moved a step forward.

"Just surrender already, Maxwell." Rolland seemed to be getting amusingly impatient.

"Trying to look out for me, eh doc?" Duo shot back. "Or should I say, _Meister R_?"

The man did not flinch at all this time. "It's two against one."

From his gesture of surrender Duo let a single finger point in the man's direction. "Three against one. You're here."

The man shook his head once, firmly. Definitely not the intimidated, nervous guy Duo had presumed him to be. "This isn't my fight, Maxwell," he replied evenly.

Duo smirked. "Of course not." He turned towards the two duplicates that were now edging closer to him in anticipation. "You know, we could walk out of here as friends."

"I don't think so." 'Wufei' laughed out harshly, the sound only momentarily causing Duo's stomach to twist inside his body.

After a second's worth of composure Duo shrugged. "Then you won't walk out of here at all."

Rolland smiled at that. "Brave talk from a kid."

Duo thought it was rather presumptuous that the man referred to him as a 'kid.' After all he was twenty-one years old and he'd already been a fucking Gundam pilot, fought in the war, helped to acquire universal peace and been offered a job with the Preventers. He was absolutely positive that was more good than this version of a mad scientist had done in his entire life.

But Duo decided to stay silent, waiting, staring at the duplicates in a challenging manner. Oh yes, this was definitely going to be fun.

'Wufei' made the first move and Duo feigned left towards 'Quatre' who rocked back in surprise. The braided man planted his heel calculatingly on the pavement and jerked the opposite way of a fist coming towards his head and smashed the attacker in the stomach with his elbow. He'd learned from days of sparring with Heero on Peacemillion about the position just above the stomach, the solar plexus, and its apparent vulnerability. With the right amount of force the whole nerve center could be shut down, causing the target to fall in a desperate struggle for breath. He added a kick to the side of the skull for good measure.

The poor excuse for 'Wufei Chang' was out instantly.

But he didn't have time to gloat as 'Quatre' was coming back at him now, straight and fast and Duo ducked quickly under the man's un-calculated right hook, his lithe form rolling behind him to appear on his other side, kicking hard at the edge of his knee. He heard a hollow pop and an immense groan of pain as the blond slumped down. He placed a heavy chop to the man's neck and thanked his lucky fucking stars he'd remembered some of the martial arts the real Wufei had begrudgingly instructed him on some years ago.

All in all it took him about fifteen seconds to bring the two imitations down. Don't ever fucking mess with Shinigami.

And even after all of that Rolland's gun hadn't wavered. Oh well, Duo had him right where he wanted him anyways.

"You know, I think your daughter's looking for you," he started, bringing his palms back up, though he did not relinquish any of his weaponry like he'd been instructed.

Rolland fit him with a greasy smile. "Yes, I am well aware."

"Hiding out right underneath our noses all these years. Never heard of a Meister R before now." Duo again watched for a reaction, but did not receive one.

The man simply nodded. "I played my part well it seems."

"Don't flatter yourself. Leaving little bread crumbs, hiding behind Quinze and the whole operation. Seems a little cowardly to me."

"Your opinion I suppose," Rolland said, lips a straight line.

Duo tapped his teeth together in a smile, hooking his chin back towards the wall behind him. "All those photographs? Let me guess, intel on our lives?"

He watched Rolland smile too then, fighting down acid in his throat. The man's eyes flicked to the wall of images and then back to Duo. "Very good intel into creating the super soldiers my fellow scientists couldn't quite seem to get right. But not a bad way to get your attention's either."

"Haven't you ever heard- you're not supposed to play with your food, doc." His braid twitched against his back as he laughed.

The man just shrugged. "Killing 'Heero Yuy' was the main spark to the reunion. It pulled you out from whatever rock you'd been hiding under all these years, didn't it?"

Duo furrowed his brows. That notion was getting to be a little irksome. "I haven't been hiding."

"Your friend Chang seemed to be the only one capable- or perhaps inclined enough- to find you. 'Yuy's' autopsy certainly didn't hurt in that department either. Interesting what some routine testing of a body's physical endurance can drum up."

"So this plan just magically manifested in your fucking head?" He wanted so badly to knock that smug look right off Rolland's face.

"Oh it's been a long time coming. And then when your friend Sean Davis kept popping up in all the wrong places I decided to use it to my advantage. Altering my identity within Winner Corp was a lovely idea, planting a cellphone, inviting general suspicion into the investigation. You know, you have a rather distrustful nature to you, Duo."

Duo felt an unbridled irritation at the way the man said his name as if they were old acquaintances. "So you let us sit and chase our own tails for a while. But still, you led us here with your little packages and riddles. You can't be that stupid, can you?"

It had been confirmed now, entirely and totally confirmed that Sean Davis had neither hide nor tail in this investigation other than to apparently fucking annoy them and keep tabs on them like he'd been saying the whole damn time. If he'd felt inclined, Duo might have actually felt sorry for doubting the man. But he didn't have time for that right now.

"My employer likes to play games so I indulged him- he's got a soft spot for Milliardo Peacecraft so I hear- and I used initials and helped myself out along the way. Someone had to sign for those bodies- dead men can't very well do it. Cut you off the trail for a while, did it not?"

Yeah, it sure as fuck did. Sent them on wild goose chases and down rabbit holes they'd just barely managed to pull themselves back out of. Duo glared. "And gave you opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. The M.R.'s, some of their blood types matched our own and murdering a couple of now suspicious possible witnesses didn't hurt either, eh?"

Rolland shrugged again, so damn nonchalant. "It did not hurt. I knew you'd get to Menta sooner or later, but-"

"But that was your opening. Track us to L2, separate us, make your move. She's a pawn just as much as anyone else in this."

"Of course she is. My daughter was useful in many ways. Loyalty is a very underrated quality nowadays."

Duo's arms were getting heavy just as the conversation seemed to be percolating. This man made his stomach turn, but he couldn't let it show. Not yet at least.

"Where does Preventer fit in? Let me guess, you wound up the whole organization, making this case seem like the pinnacle of importance, just to get your shot at us?"

"Don't act so offended, Maxwell." Rolland shifted his weight, but his weapon's aim did not flinch. "But yes, the organization was rather obliging in the idea of bringing you all together to benefit their own investigation. Just a taste of possible DNA research gone bad was enough to cause suspicion. Manipulating the system was a simple task actually. You have no idea what a few vague newspaper articles can do nowadays."

Duo frowned. "So why the attacks? Bring us all together, then single us out, then back together- you gotta get your priorities straight here."

"My employer couldn't contain his annoyance at your galavanting through the Earth Sphere- he wanted tabs. But the distraction was still affording me the extra time I needed, so I let him deal with it as he saw fit."

"Car and shuttle bombs? Yeah, that seems like a great way to get us back together." Duo could not fight the roll of his eyes.

Rolland looked as though he couldn't care less. "They never killed, did they? Keeping you all alive was the intention of this entire venture."

Duo swallowed once, things were winding down, he could feel it. "And now?" he ventured.

Rolland fit him with a grin, lips pulling back until they were white against his already pale skin. "I think you already know the answer to that."

"You're insane," Duo said, eyes flicking just past the man into the shadows, searching.

Rolland sighed as if suddenly bored. "Most of us are these days, wouldn't you agree?"

Duo racked his brain for more questions, more snide comments, anything to stall the man. They had to be getting close, though there was no way to know for certain. But he had to hold out just a little bit longer-

The sound of a cell phone ringing cut into Duo's internal panic. He watched as Rolland carefully reached for the device, pulling it from his pocket and answering wordlessly, only listening to the other end.

After a few heartbeats he stepped forward and held out the phone. "It's for you."

Duo had not been expecting that. Shit. He held out his hand tentatively to retrieve the device, but nothing happened, no tricks, no nothing. He still had his gun and his knife, though now Rolland's proximity was enough for him to know not to risk it. So he held the phone to his ear instead. "Maxwell," he muttered.

"We need to talk." It was Quinze. How nice of him to check in.

"So talk." Duo's unoccupied fingers reached up to scratch at his scarred skull, only drawing Rolland's barrel closer to his face in warning.

"I want to make a deal."

Well that was a new one. Duo squinted past his captor at nothing in particular. "This should be good." He even let himself smirk at the thought.

"The terms are very good actually. Care to hear them?"

Duo chewed at the inside of his lip. "Listen, I don't really care what kind of deal you're gonna make. In case you haven't already seen, I just took out two of your clones- mediocre I might add, they're nothing like the originals- and now I'm planning on bypassing this whole thing and going straight back to Prev with my new intel." He gave Rolland a saucy grin. "And I don't think you or your guy here is going to be able to stop me neither."

There was a sigh from Quinze, something like exasperation. "No, you're not. Right now you're stalling for time- working out how you're going to rescue your friends. Waiting for Chang and Yuy perhaps."

Duo caught himself before he could swallow. "Is that so? You a mind reader now, Quinze?"

"No," the man answered evenly, apparently unsurprised that Duo had already figured out his identity. "I just know you well enough to know that you wouldn't trust their safety to that of Preventer. You'd rather see to it yourself."

He did swallow then. "I think you're getting ahead of yourself here. You're assuming I give a shit-"

"Oh, but you do. You wouldn't be here at all if you didn't give a shit."

Taken aback, Duo's lips pulled downwards as he glared a hole in the ground beneath his feet. He tried hard not to sneer in Rolland's newly smug direction. "I think you're pretty confident for a guy fucking with ex-pilots."

Quinze laughed at that. "Pilots 03 and 04 have put a lot of stock in you and your comrades. It's quite touching- their faith in you."

Teeth grinding, Duo took a step forward and ignored the way Rolland readjusted his gun. He knew Quinze was fucking with him now, no way would Quatre or Trowa be sitting somewhere begging for their lives, waiting to be rescued like fucking damsels. It was all a bunch of bullshit, just trying to mess with his head just like everything else lately. All the photographs, all the riddles, all the drug-induced hallucinations. Everything.

"What are your terms?" he bit out.

He could tell Quinze was smiling now. He wanted desperately to knock any of his remaining teeth out with one good right-hook. "You and Chang and Yuy come in now. We sit down, all of us, and talk this out like gentlemen. Your lives guaranteed."

Bullshit. Duo's eyes flicked up towards Rolland now- he vaguely wondered how many reinforcements were hiding out in the shadows and crevices around them. Maybe ten, twenty, a hundred. Maybe zero.

"Do we have a deal?" Quinze was asking.

Duo let out a heavy laugh. "Do I have a choice?"

"I suppose not much of one, no."

"How do I know the others are still alive?" Duo's eyes were flicking around now, looking for an opening, a vulnerability. Rolland looked to be growing bored not being included in the conversation.

"Winner and Barton? Trust me, they're alive."

"See here's the thing- I don't fucking trust you, Quinze. Not a lick. I want proof, I want to see them. Bring them out to the doc and me."

"Not a chance." He could hear Quinze tensing. "They stay where they are."

Duo took a deep breath. "Then have fun trying to get your hands on the rest of us." His thumb hit the screen to end the call and then he waited half-a-heartbeat before swerving into action.

Rolland hadn't been giving the one hundred and ten percent attention he'd been giving at the start and so Duo was able to get under his gun arm, shoulder hitting stomach and knocking the wind out of the older body above him. Then his fingers were reaching up to curl around Rolland's hand, finding his thumb and pulling it back, the painful tension causing his muscles to react and loosen his hold on the pistol now flailing dangerously.

It fell to the floor and Duo gave it a vicious kick, sending it skittering across the dirty tiles and under the table near the wall of photographs. But now Rolland was recovering, snarling in his ear and bringing a knee upward to aim at Duo's chin. The braided man managed to lift up enough for the movement to only clip him, stunning him for only a second.

In another circumstance Duo might have been outmatched. Rolland was taller and broader than his own slight frame, but where he lacked meaty muscle he made up for in speed. The doctor's older reflexes were no match for the fist aimed at the side of his skull, fueled by days of pent up rage and aggression. Duo watched as Rolland's body hung vertical in midair for a moment before slumping to the ground in a heap.

He sucked in a few deep breaths, hands going to knees to steady himself after the adrenaline fueled surprise attack. Shit, maybe he was still not totally back from his near-death experience, winded as he was by the exertions he'd been recently putting his body through.

After a moment Duo went to ensure that the duplicates were still indeed unconscious and then went in search of Wufei and Heero.

He hoped his little charade and long-winded chat with both Rolland and Quinze had provided at least a small amount of distraction for his companions to seek out what they'd been hoping to find.

As he edged his body away from the flood-lamps his surroundings were slowly, but surely, plunged back into the thick darkness of night. His eyes adjusted somewhat, but he still felt a bit vulnerable, a bit helpless, like he might run headlong into something fucking bad if he wasn't careful.

Duo wasn't certain exactly what it was he was looking for. Probably a central building, perhaps one similar to where he'd just been, scattered with signs deterring anyone from snooping around more than they should. But in this darkness it would be hard to spot anything like that.

He neared a building, a few stories high from what he could tell by a remnant of moonlight peaking through the clouds. Duo was too busy squinting upwards, eyes searching for a sign, to notice the heap of limbs the toe of his boot made violent contact with, his arms spinning for a second before he caught his balance.

He'd retrieved his gun on impulse, dropping to his knees to come face to face with a very lifeless corpse. It was a man, neck snapped, skin already cooling; not a clone, just a thug. Fuck, it had been efficient and quick and utterly radiated with Heero Yuy's handiwork.

Duo smiled in the darkness before picking himself back up, careful to skirt around the body, and keeping his eyes down in search of any more. He found the entrance then, marked by a shining pool of what he could assume was blood by the coppery stench it left behind. He stepped over it best he could, knocked his body through a makeshift plastic doorway and then found the owner to said bodily fluid, propped against the wall, eyes wide, red hole glaring up right between them.

He grimaced once and then took the stairs down the hall to his left until the faint sound of papers shuffling and muffled voices led him down another hallway and to a door only half-way closed, a trickle of light glowing from within.

Duo nudged it open with the barrel of his gun, but did not receive the reaction he'd been expecting. Instead Heero and Wufei simply looked up from a table spread with documents and vials and needles, utterly unsurprised by his sudden appearance. Shit, he hadn't been that obvious, had he?

"Rolland's here," he said by way of greeting, moving forward to studying whatever it was the two men were rifling through. "Or Meister R or M.R. or whatever-the-fuck."

Wufei stared. "So Yuy was correct. We've had a photograph of him this whole time."

Heero gave a grunt- perhaps in agreement or audacity at ever having been doubted in the first place. Duo's head bobbed. "Yeah and he's been using Sean Davis against us this whole bloody time too."

"And what of your theory?" Wufei asked.

There was a moment of hesitation, a moment where he wanted to gloat, but then it passed in lieu of the darkening mood enveloping them with each passing minute. "It's Quinze. I don't know how or why but it's him. Seems like he's the benefactor Tro talked about."

"I don't think we've got much time," Heero said then, not looking up from a print-out his eyes were mechanically scanning, all but ignoring the conversation taking place in front of him.

Duo licked his lips. "Oh yeah, why's that?"

Heero set the paper down and then reached to pick up a small styrofoam box to set it atop the table. He placed his fingers at the edge and angled it for Duo to see what was inside. The entire thing was filled with vials and bags of blood all labeled the exact same way: _Barton_.

He'd never been one to recoil at the sight of blood, but still Duo felt a bit queazy. "Shit, do we have a plan?"

"We are almost done documenting," Wufei answered, as he snapped off a few more pictures of important looking documents with a pen sized camera. He looked up then. "As far as the rest of our plan- it's kind of up in the air."

Duo felt his stomach drop at the unintended insinuation. "We close to the helipad?"

Heero retrieved a paper from his back pocket, folding it open halfway to reveal the blu-print. He touched a building with his thumb. "We are here-" he moved the appendage a couple of inches north- "the pad is here."

"So that's where they've got to be. Right?" Duo didn't like sounding so unsure of his own words. "They've got what they need and now they have to _dispose_ of what they don't."

All three men stared past one another in grim understanding that what had just been said had most likely been the exact truth of the matter. Shit, they _were_ running out of time.

"What would you do now?" Wufei was staring at him again. "If you were in charge here and your enemy was running rampant getting into things they shouldn't."

Duo felt his muscles stiffen at the way both pairs of eyes were looking at him now, somehow expectant like he was suddenly a foremost authority. Which shit, he certainly wasn't. "They've got vehicles. If that were me, I'd get in those cars and run us down. On foot this place is big- but against cars it would get a whole lot smaller."

Wufei resigned to a slow nod, wheels turning. "The fence keeps us in just as well as it keeps us out."

"And if they don't find us?" Heero supplied.

Duo grimaced. "They assume we got out and they panic."

Heero was already moving, out towards the hallway and towards those dead bodies of men just doing their jobs, just doing as they were told. "And then they kill their bargaining chips and bunker down."

Wufei and Duo followed close behind, silent with nothing left to discuss.

* * *

By the time they heard the sound of engines being awakened and saw headlamps flooding the surrounding area with blinding light they'd made it to helipad.

It wasn't as hard to get to as Duo had at first predicted. The machine was housed smack in the middle of a slew of offices, ground-level, nothing entirely flashy about it except for the stark white color that seemed to glow in the darkness around them. The three men edged close to the helicopter's left side, using it as a shield against the three jeeps that had been fired up a few seconds before.

"How long will it take?" Wufei whispered in Duo's ear, barely audible over the coughing engines.

"For them to case the place?" Duo mumbled back. "I dunno, probably four, five minutes. Maybe less."

It seemed enough of an estimate as Wufei made a gesture towards the nearest cluster of offices. They waited several seconds after the jeeps made their way towards the building they'd just vacated and then the three headed away from the helicopter.

The first three rooms they encountered were locked. The fourth was not, in fact the door was even cracked open to allow a small amount of artificial light to seep out into the shadows. It could have been anyone, or no one.

Heero took point, Glock at the ready, stepped into the door to push it open with his shoulder and take aim. Duo and Wufei followed suit to find absolutely nothing out of the ordinary, a regular looking office, bland toap walls, a faux wood bookshelf, a couple of metal-legged chairs.

Nothing unusual, that is, accept for Menta Rolland sitting behind the desk.

No-one spoke for a long, harsh moment. Then she broke their gaze, eyes averting to hands clasped in her lap. "He's my father," she said.

For a brief second Duo wanted nothing more than to scream in frustration. Why was everything always so fucking complicated? And he'd not ever even met the woman, but somehow he was feeling some sort of weird sense of remorse for her in the deepness of his chest. Fuck, he hated it. Fuck this empathy.

So instead he spat out, "Loyalty's a bitch, huh?"

The woman looked back up then, eyes narrowed in aggression, but Duo wasn't about to apologize for the obvious truth in his words.

"Your friends are here," Menta told them.

Wufei gave a little nod, maybe trying not to look as angry as he did from Duo's perspective. "We know," he ground out.

Menta's jaw tightened. "He's my father," she repeated.

This time it was Heero's turn. "Yes," he said. "We aren't going to kill you, if that's what you think."

Huh, Duo sure hadn't been expecting that from the Perfect Soldier himself. But, they'd already caused a bit of bloodshed, hadn't they? And after all, the woman had been coerced, no fucking doubt about that. Death wasn't a fitting punishment, they'd leave that one up to Une herself.

And then, entirely unexpectedly, the plan he'd been searching for all night, suddenly manifested inside of Duo's head.

"Do they know you around here?" he asked the woman, tipping his gun lower in hopes of proving Heero's statement true.

She narrowed her eyes again, suspicious. "I've been here before, yeah."

"Pick up the phone."

"Why?"

Duo huffed out a sigh. "Listen, Yuy here may not plan on shooting you, but I know a dozen places to put a bullet where it won't kill you, but it is damn well gonna hurt like a mother-fucker."

Menta swallowed once and picked up the phone on the desk in front of her.

Duo smiled. "I want you to tell the gate guard to open up exactly one minute from now."

The woman gave a tiny nod of understanding, but what Duo received from the two men on either side of him was straight confusion. As to have been expected. Hell, he'd just thought of the idea himself not more than a thirty seconds ago.

"Do you trust me?" he muttered, not directing it specifically, but more of a general question to both of his companions.

He could feel the tension start to radiate immediately. But he'd always been unpredictable, surely they couldn't be that surprised by this. He flicked eyes to first Heero and then Wufei. Neither answered outright, but he could tell the answer anyways.

Menta had the phone to her ear now, they could hear the faintness of a ringer sounding two times before the gate guard picked up. She spoke in a low tone, but kept it even, her eyes never leaving Duo's pistol. _Good girl_, he might have praised if he were that kind of condescending asshole.

"When the gate opens-" he went on flicking his vision from both Heero and Wufei. "-we head for the car and get the hell out of dodge."

Wufei glowered. "And then what?"

"We come back with reinforcements."

Heero too was frowning. "In time?"

"The faster we get out now, the faster we get back," Duo explained. Menta was hanging up the phone now, looking to him for the next instruction.

Because he didn't want to fair anymore of his comrade's questions, he said to the woman, "Empty your pockets." And then confiscated her cellphone before adding in the lightest voice he could manage at a time like this. "You stay put, got it? And if you do then we'll be sure to put in a good word for you at Preventer- explain how cooperative you were, make sense?"

She just nodded, her resolve clearly weakening with each passing word that left Duo's mouth. He then reached for the phone, finding the cable that attached it to the network and pulled it straight from the wall, throwing the thing into a heap on the desk with little care.

Then he turned back towards the door, pointedly ignoring the stare of bewilderment from Wufei and especially the one of near suspicion from Heero, and dragged one of the metallic chairs with him out into the hallway. Once the three had filed out, not another word spoken, he shoved the back of the chair upwards under the door handle. It wasn't the best form of security, but he was almost certain his words had done the trick all on their own.

And then when he turned to leave Heero's hand was on his wrist, the fingers biting into his flesh. "Duo-"

Duo ignored the tone of concern and pulled away, amazed that the man actually let him go so easily. "We've got to get moving. Twenty seconds till the gate opens."

They ran then, full fledged through the night, only hearing the vague rumble of the jeeps in the distance on the other edge of the campus. Duo kept pace with them all the way there, even as his lungs burned with the exertion. When they could see the gate he made a show to slow his pace, only by a few seconds, but he allowed his breathing to labor causing Heero to check on him only once as they neared the exit.

By the time they were within range the gate was moving, wheels screeching against the ground, the metal wire pulling with an initial jerk. There were headlights, he could see them creeping around the corner of the building closest to them. The sight caused Heero and Wufei to move faster. It told Duo to slow down.

There was shouting somewhere and then the gate was moving again, this time back into its secure position, but the two men ahead were already moving through it, slipping through the pool of light from the guard hut and moving out of sight. Duo watched them go, but only for a heartbeat.

Just as the jeep was turning the corner he was gone, feet carrying him fast back from where he'd just come. Fifteen seconds later he was standing next to the helicopter once again, alone and ready for his next move.


	27. Where The Air Makes You Choke

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, mild adult themes, and mild lime/lemon.

**A/N:** Thanks for all the love lately! Only one more chapter to go after this one, as bitter-sweet as that is. Leave a review, I always appreciate the feedback!

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 27: Where The Air Makes You Choke**

_Walk On The Ocean - Toad and the Wet Sprocket_

They'd probably seen Heero and Wufei escaping through the gate, and even if they hadn't, he'd managed to set the whole campus into even more of a frenzy. If they thought the ex-pilots had escaped, they would panic, just as he'd predicted. And if they found out he was still inside, they'd still panic. Or at least he sure as fuck hoped they would. Either way it was another efficient distraction.

Duo waited until there were no signs of headlamps and then moved to the helicopter's rear door. It was unlocked and he let out a silent sigh of relief because really, as good as he was, he wasn't sure he'd have been too adept at breaking into a high-tech helicopter; not as if he'd had much opportunity to practice.

As he climbed into the aircraft he tried unsuccessfully not to think about Heero and Wufei. About a minute ago they would have realized he was not right behind them, they would have seen the gate screeching closed, and heard the jeeps gunning straight for them and would have had to make a decision.

He knew what Preventer protocol would have Wufei do and he knew what Heero's wartime training would have from him as well. But he also knew there would be a second's hesitation from both men before they made the decision Duo was counting on from them. They'd be pissed of course- but that was unavoidable. But at least they wouldn't be free-falling from a fucking helicopter anytime soon.

The door slid open and Duo slipped in, shutting it as quietly as he could. After a few seconds there was no sound of alarm and so he figured at least he'd succeeded finding himself the perfect hiding spot. _That_ he did have quite a bit of practice in.

Duo looked at his new surroundings then. It was larger than the inside of a van, but had the same style of layout. There were three rows of seats, two in the front for pilot and co-pilot, two in the middle, and two at the back- but the middle row was empty where the seats would have fit. _More room for cargo_, he thought, stomach tightening for only one dangerous second.

Behind the rearmost seats was a small area perhaps for luggage, just large enough for his thin body to crawl into. If he sat sideways with his legs stretched out he just fit, though it was admittedly a bit claustrophobic. While he waited Duo's fingers found his Glock- no bullets used thus far- and the flick knife at his ankle. Well, he'd been less prepared in worse scenarios before, so really this probably wasn't so bad. Shit, _probably_.

He figured the state of panic wouldn't last too much longer and Quinze or Rolland or whoever would be doling out orders to shut everything down, get rid of evidence, and generally get the fuck out. That also meant- in Duo's hopeful mind- that this helicopter would be coming into use very soon. Oh, how they'd fucking underestimated them.

It had been about twenty minutes before the first sign of anything roused Duo from his thoughts- ones of Heero that he probably should have banished to the far-reaches of his mind, especially at a fucking time like this- but then the cockpit door was opening and a body was climbing in, dipping the floor a bit with the new added weight.

If Duo leaned just right he could peak a single eye between the seats in front of him, but he couldn't make much out from this distance, though his ears could hear the sound of pre-flight checks being made. Then came the incredibly loud sound of compressed air, almost like the crack of a gunshot, and then the whip of blades overhead coming to life. The whole craft started to vibrate.

A minute later the rear door was slid open and a large hulk of a man- someone he vaguely recognized from the med facility on L2- was hauling himself and a much slighter frame of a man thrashing like a beast in thick cuffs and zip tied ankles into the open area just behind the cockpit.

Quatre Winner was snarling obscenities that might've even made Duo himself blush, kicking and wriggling and generally giving his captor a hell of a time. The larger man seemed somewhat at a loss, struggling to keep the body in his grasp enough to place him on the floor and sidestepping back to the open doorway with a look of actual terror on his squared face. Duo had to hold himself back from laughing at the sight. Shit, he reminded himself never to fucking mess with Quat if he valued his life.

Next came another body, this one larger but more docile and that's when the humor of the situation faded. He'd never seen Trowa so pale, the man usually harboring a golden hugh to his skin- one any pallid spacer would envy. But then the container filled with blood samples came back into Duo's mind and he swallowed hard.

Trowa's body, restrained in the same manner, was placed next to Quatre's, the blond having grown instantly quiet, whispering something Duo couldn't hear in his companion's ear. But he could see Trowa smiling wide- an oddity he'd never forget from then on- and could only imagine the moment they were sharing, even now at what seemed their most vulnerable.

But he didn't have much time to dwell as the floor bounced again as the large goon came to rest in one of the seats in front of Duo's body, the one nearest his legs thankfully, the seat depressing backwards an inch from the new weight.

And then the door opposite the pilot opened to reveal Rolland sliding into his seat, buckling in, and turning to bark out a rough, "Go."

No sign of Quinze, but that was okay- one was better than none and besides, Duo knew the man would get his in the end. Wufei and Heero had the evidence to see to that.

Duo felt the entire craft begin to vibrate more violently, the turbines spin up, and the blades begin a furious acceleration overhead. Then the helicopter lifted up and they were airborne. He braced himself as the floor tilted, the nose tilting down to pick up speed. He clenched his teeth and laid his palms flat against the floor to keep from shifting as much as the tiny space might let him.

He'd leaned back now away from the crack between seats, but he could hear the slight shift of bodies on the floor only a few feet from him. Dammit. Duo's fingers found his gun and clung to it, trying to stop it from vibrating too much and giving his position away. He so desperately wanted to use it, to jump into action, to enact his horribly impulsive plan right then and there, but he knew he had to wait.

And wait he did, about twenty-odd minutes or so according to his internal clock. By now Wufei and Heero would've definitely already made contact with Preventer- if he was lucky they'd already have patrol cars at the med facility and people with big guns and bigger attitudes guiding a search of what might have been left behind, if anything at all. Hell, Captain Chang would probably be in the front lines.

And Heero would probably be explaining away the situation to Une herself, trying to make Duo look the hero, not the horribly caustic and apparently suicidal man he'd resigned himself to be. Even if it fucking worked, he certainly wouldn't be accepting anyone's gratitude. This was how it was supposed to be, he had to save those who were making it, those he owed it to as a friend. Whatever became of him- there really wasn't much of a difference there. Except, perhaps, in Heero's mind. He sucked in a ragged breath and decided if best to not think along those lines.

He could feel the helicopter slowing, there was a slight shift to the left as the pilot leveled it out, and the noise inside the cabin began to grow louder. Duo peaked through his inch worth of view. He could just make out Rolland, his head tilted and looking out the window next to him. Fucking surveying the land below, looking for the perfect spot. Then the older man turned to the pilot, gave some sort of order, and then Duo could feel the helicopter shift into a stationary hover.

For a second he could feel his hands start to quiver, but he decided indisputably that it was from the vibration of the craft's walls all around him. He then began to wonder idly if Rolland would be the one to do it, the one to open the door, the one to kill two ex-pilots without a second thought. But then the chair in front of him was shifting forward, there was a click of a harness, and the large hulk of a man was standing.

The guy had to crouch slightly to keep his balance, feet apart pressed into the floor, knees bent, head down. Duo watched the hulk take a tentative step forward, testing himself and then make the rest of the trip with a bit more confidence, coming to stop next to the door opposite the one they had both entered in before lift-off.

He grabbed hold of a safety harness and then unlatched the door bringing with it the blaring sound of wind and noise from the still hovering craft. The hulk then scrabbled backwards a bit, his vision turning first to the bound bodies on the floor and then to Rolland for confirmation. That's when Duo knew it was time.

In his mind it all played out in slow motion, but he knew in actuality that it would only take about four seconds, three if he were extra-cocky about it. First, he shifted his body, hooking two fingers onto the handle next to his shoulder and pushed, the seat-back bouncing forward with the effort. Second, he twisted his body, placed his right arm level against the cushion, steadying the Glock in his hand. Third, he fired.

The bullet hit the man square in the stomach, right in the space above his navel, red blooming almost instantly through the t-shirt he wore. It hadn't been as loud as it might've been somewhere else, somewhere without all the helicopter background noise, but still it had been heard clearly throughout the cockpit. Duo watched as the hulk sought him out, a look of utter disbelief forming on his face before his knees were buckling and he was losing balance and his immense weight carried him easily backwards through the open doorway and out of sight into the night.

Everyone in the cabin seemed to have barely reacted at all. Quatre was trying to crane his neck around to see where the shot had originated. Trowa was rolling onto his side. The pilot kept a firm grip on the controls, not daring to move. Rolland was staring blankly out into the open air where his hired-muscle had just disappeared into nothingness.

And then Shinigami stood up.

He crawled over the lowered seat like something out of a nightmare, levelling his Glock at Rolland's head, and sparing a single glance down towards Trowa and Quatre who each managed to find his boots, their muscles slackening slightly at the sight.

Here was the moment of optimum danger and of optimum opportunity. Duo couldn't afford to shoot Rolland because the bullet would inevitably hit something vital to their staying in the air. If the pilot was smart- or perhaps more likely _brave_\- he could throw the helicopter about violently until all the unsecured cargo fell out and then their plan would succeed, plus one.

If the pilot understood, Duo and his friends were fucked. If he didn't, then Rolland and the pilot were as good as dead.

In this smallest amount of luck the pilot was stupid or just cowardly or hopeful that he might survive if he played along. Maybe, maybe he would be so lucky. They would have to wait and see on that one. But he didn't do anything reckless, he kept the helicopter nice and stationary and after a few seconds to confirm that that was how it was going to stay, Duo's lips peeled into a smile.

He moved quickly, stepping forward with cat-like balance and wrapped his sharp elbow around Rolland's neck, keeping his Glock in one hand pointed at the man's skull and the other reaching down towards a raised leg to grab at his knife. Once retrieved, he gestured it behind him, his vision slipping to watch as Trowa- flexibility uncanny- was halfway through the act of lacing his long arms around his body to bring cuffed wrists forward for an easier time of escaping. A few seconds later he felt fingers grabbing for the knife.

While Trowa set to work on ridding he and Quatre of the zip ties, Duo turned his attentions back to Rolland. He placed his mouth close to the other man's ear. "The keys?" he asked, in all geniality.

The doctor seemed hesitant at first, as he should have been seeing as his entire plan was unravelling at the seems, but then Duo's chokehold tightened and the man wheezed out once, fingers pawing at his pocket.

"Okay, you just hold still there. I'll get 'em," Duo instructed, his left hand reaching into the other man's trousers to pull free a single, silver key. He held it backwards again to an awaiting Trowa.

A few seconds and two hollow clicks later his friends were free, flexing their stiff muscles. They'd probably been like that for hours by the way their hands seemed to be shaking uncontrollably. Duo watched from his peripherals as Trowa stayed seated, his eyes sunken, and he couldn't help but commiserate the feeling of having nearly your entire flow of blood drained from you in one go. If they'd not been pumped full of whatever nasty drugs and nano-tech when they were teenagers, they probably would've never been able to survive such an experience in the first place. What a fucking double-edged sword that was.

But Quatre, shaking out his hands fervently, took the new opportunity of freedom in stride. He grabbed up Duo's knife from the floor, stalking forward as nimbly as Duo had done, and grabbed the pilot's collar, sticking the blade just under his jaw. He didn't say a word, shit but he didn't have to, the gesture spoke for itself. The pilot stayed incredibly still, eyes staring out the windscreen ahead of him.

Duo was admittedly impressed, not having seen Quatre as anything other than a businessman for the last however many years. In fact, he wasn't sure he'd ever seen the blond with so much pent up aggression as he seemed to be having now. Of course, he'd not witnessed the man pilot Zero during the war- perhaps this was a bit reminiscent. He swallowed back the thought and turned his attention to Rolland once more.

The man was clawing at his arm now. Duo pressed the barrel of his weapon further into his skull and the movement ceased. He turned to the pilot. "How far up are we?"

The pilot swallowed before answering. "Three-thousand feet."

Duo pretended to mull it over a bit and then nodded. He spoke in Rolland's ear again. "Is this how high up you took 'Heero Yuy' when you wanted to test out your little science experiment?"

The man gasped for air and Duo lessened his grip by a centimeter. Then Rolland's head bobbed. "Yes," he rasped out, sounding almost defeated, like he knew exactly what was going to come next. And shit, it was a pretty predictable fate, but Duo didn't really much care.

Reaching down to unbuckle the man's harness Duo pulled the larger body backwards with a burst of energy and threw him down to the floor next to Trowa. Rolland landed hard on hands and knees, the helicopter wavering from the impact, and then looked up into those green eyes. Trowa lent the man a smile, but not one someone wanted to see before lights out. Not kind, just a little sick.

In an instant Rolland was scrambling, trying to get a hold in order to stand or turn and ready himself for a fight, but it was too late. Duo's foot slammed him hard against the middle of the spine, sending his body back to the floor and forward a couple of inches closer to the still open door.

The man's limbs flailed again, pushing under himself, trying desperately to back away from the imminent plunge, but Duo was on him now, pinning his body beneath his easily. Rolland tried at first to buck him off, but he was an old man and Shinigami was stronger than ever.

He leaned in close again. "You fucked with the wrong people, Meister R. First mistake: you fucked with the scientists. Second mistake: you fucked with their pet-projects. Never fucking mess with ex-Gundam pilots."

Duo pushed then against the man's shoulders, the body sliding out from under him little by little even as it struggled. But he'd not accounted for the sharp flash of a blunt knife to hit him squarely between the ribs. He watched, dazed, as Rolland's fingers stayed clenched around the weapon he'd not seen or sensed before it was too late. A few rivulets of blood began to trickle against his aged skin.

But Duo did not feel the pain of the impact or the way the man was attempting to twist the lodged blade inside of him. Instead he jumped backwards, pushing and kicking out just wanting to rid himself of this disgusting person once and for all. The photographs of them flashed before his eyes, vials of blood dancing across his vision, his name- Maxwell- and all the others plastered across that wall like they'd always been nothing more than experiments and data to be harvested.

Duo kicked out with his boot, hitting the man in the side and sending his weight forward and out the door, but not a second later was there a sensation of heat wrapping around his lower leg, something pulling, his body sliding towards the howling darkness.

Rolland had him in his grasp and now they'd finally get to see if he really was the God of Death, un-killable, invincible. But all that mattered now was that this man would be dead and gone from their lives. The other's could finally move on from this. It was all over. The end was finally here.


	28. Take The Long Way Home

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

**Warnings:** Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, mild adult themes, and mild lime/lemon.

**A/N: **I can't believe we've made it to the end! See bottom for further notes. For now, I give you the grand finale. Enjoy.

* * *

**Maxwell**

**Chapter 28: Take The Long Way Home**

_Take The Long Way Home - Supertramp _

He stared down at the eyes below him, watching blandly as the life seemed to filter out of their blue depths with each passing second. The fingers wrapped around his victim's throat were pulled tight across the delicate skin of the man's neck, leaving bruising marks beneath them without an inkling of hesitation.

But he could smell smoke, could feel the soot and ash in the air circling around him like rain thrust about by wind. There was heat and smoldering embers beneath his feet.

_Don't make us worry like that. Father was... worried about you... even to the end,_ she said.

He squeezed against the windpipe harder now, watching as the man beneath him struggled for air instinctively, his face contorted in a natural, human panic. It didn't even phase the braided man. He merely watched with quiet curiosity, strangling his victim with ease.

There was a moment of familiarity and he thought for a split second that his conscience was finally awakening. He looked into those eyes and a spark registered within his mind.

_Heero_.

And then he stopped, pulled back, and opened his eyes.

* * *

Trowa was staring at him. An upside down version of the man at least, pale and sallow and actually grinning a bit- and shit, that was the scariest part of it all.

Duo sat up too quickly, his head spinning and a sharp pain pulling at his side, like a knife cutting into his flesh. His eyes lolled to where the sensation originated to find that, in fact, there was a knife sticking into his side, just staring up at him from in between his eleventh and twelfth ribs as he hastened to remember what the fuck had just happened.

His eyes blurred for only a second as he registered that he was still in the helicopter, that it had not been a dream or a nightmare or a hallucination. He took a deep breath, but he did not smell any smoke.

Trowa steadied him with an arm where he sat. "Rolland's gone," he supplied, matter-of-fact.

Right. Rolland. Meister R. Duo remembered now- remembered wrestling the man to the ground, the knife in his ribs, kicking him out to an appropriate death, the doc taking Duo along with him-

"But he-"

Trowa squeezed a hand against his shoulder. "I was able to reach you in time."

Duo leaned back against the man's solid chest with a gruff sigh. "Goddammit I owe you twice now, Tro."

There came a laugh from up front and Duo turned his head to meet Quatre's glowing eyes. "Did you forget so soon?" the man asked, Duo's Glock in hand pointed casually at the stiff-faced pilot. "You just saved both of our lives, Duo."

"So we can call it even," Trowa murmured a second later.

Duo let out a chuckle, but the movement caused the knife in his side to shift uncomfortably. He grimaced. "Can you do anything about this?" he muttered.

"It will be better to wait until we get you to a hospital," Quatre answered. "You won't be alone. Trowa will need treatment as well."

Duo could feel the other man's body stiffen at that and laughed- this time in his mind- at Trowa's obvious aversion. But after what had just transpired, if either of them thought they were going to argue with Quatre, they would probably rather find themselves resigned to the same fate as Rolland.

"Where are Heero and Wufei?" Trowa asked then, apparently trying to steer away from the track of their current conversation.

Duo scooted a bit away from his support then so he could turn and face both his companions, trying his best to hide the burning pain that shot up and down his side at the effort. "Hopefully working. Preventer should have a good low-down of the med facility by now."

Trowa nodded his appreciation. "So we radio in first, touch-down there, then what?"

Duo's eyes narrowed. "Quinze is still out there, I'm sure he was first to jump ship when things went to shit."

"And when Preventer asks about Rolland's death?" Trowa prompted.

Duo shrugged. "Self-defense, right guys?" he looked to Trowa and Quatre, then to the pilot busy flying, but still listening to their ever word. "This guy been cooperative, Quat?"

Quatre gave a nod, lips quirking. "Oh, yes very accommodating."

Duo gave a little grunt. "And when Preventer asks?" He watched as the pilot carefully turned his neck a couple of inches to meet his questioning gaze. Quatre's gun was still leveled at his head. "Self-defense, of course, Mr. Maxwell," he all-but stuttered out.

Duo smiled then. "Good man. You just earned yourself your life- and maybe a kind word to those agents that are going to be arresting you the minute we're dirtside again."

* * *

"Duo Maxwell, you impulsive idiot!"

At first the words seemed like they'd have originated from within Wufei's over-angered mouth- they had that certain, tactless edge to them. But upon second look the pure fury had actually come radiating forth from lips he was just a slight bit better acquainted with. He wasn't sure if that were a good or a bad thing just yet.

He was climbing down the from the helicopter, holding a bit of blood-soaked gauze to his wound, minding the knife itself, and leaning against Trowa for support. Or perhaps it was the opposite way around- but that didn't really fucking matter now that they were back on the ground and it was all over and Quatre came bounding after them to take Trowa's place rather quickly as their other companions were making tense strides to reach them.

Heero was storming towards him, fists balled to make his knuckles into tiny white blades of skin. At first Duo thought he might punch him- something he was unfortunately accustomed to and also admittedly figured he deserved after the stunt he'd just managed to pull. But then those granite hands were wrapping themselves around his biceps, pulling him close to press lips against his own. There was something awkward and sloppy and entirely needy about the whole thing, but hell he didn't much care at this point.

Duo felt his head going light and he vaguely wondered if it was in reaction to the kiss, to the wondering tongue against his own, or else the knife still lodged between ribs and the amount of blood that he'd already lost because of it.

Heero pulled back and glared. "You could have died."

"Yeah, that's just about the size of it, 'Ro." Duo set him with a saucy grin, his muscles falling slack against the man now holding him upright.

Eyes flicking to the wound Heero's frown deepened. He pulled Duo's arm across his shoulders swiftly, all-but carrying the man out from a suddenly thick crowd of onlookers- all dressed in varying degrees of Preventer uniforms- until Duo's eyes came into contact with a pair of very familiar ones staring back at him.

"Davis," he muttered, pulling at Heero's neck and trying desperately to deviate their path towards the man now looking a bit sheepish in his own right.

Heero tugged him, trying to be gentle. "Hospital," he implored shortly.

Duo looked up at him sharply. "Shit, after all this I'm still alive and raring. Waiting five minutes to take care of this stupid little scratch sure as hell ain't gonna kill me."

The man stared down at him at first in confusion and then in soft defeat that Duo hadn't remembered seeing before. Maybe this little relationship of their's _was_ going to work out- and damn, it might just be pretty fucking interesting too!

He hobbled a few feet, though Heero did most of the walking. Agents parted for him on instinct as if he were some hot shot like Captain Chang himself. Once they'd made it to Sean Davis' little place amidst the crowd Duo looked up at him through tangled bangs, eyes narrowed just slightly. "Davis," he said by way of greeting.

The other man stared down at him, the sheepish look from before morphing into disbelief and then back to a more recognizable condescension. But this time his lips were turned up at the corners in a natural way. "Maxwell," he responded in kind. "We weren't sure you were gonna make it back alive."

Duo chuckled at that, softly as to not disturb his injury. "You know, for a second I thought so too. But I guess I've got some unfinished business in the land of the living- still gotta fuck around with your case and all."

"Not my case anymore," Davis replied, head shaking a bit at his attempt to hide his laughter.

"Oh right- you resigned, huh?" The braided man stared up at him with some sort of appreciation. "Hope the family's well. But Prev's definitely down a good agent now. Of course, you've developed some pretty good skills in the art of stalking- might be something for your resumé."

Davis did laugh then, eyes shining. "You always have something to say, don't you?"

At that there was a grunt from his left and Duo just barely caught Heero smirking from his peripheral vision. He turned back to smile at Davis, genuine. "So if it's not your case anymore, then who's in charge around here?"

"That would be me, Maxwell." Duo turned to see, though he already knew exactly who the voice belonged to. Wufei shared a conspiratorial look with Heero before moving towards the injured man with a smug grin wrapping his lips. "You need to get to a hospital."

Duo nodded earnestly. "Yes, people keep telling me that."

"Come on, we need to go," Heero mumbled in his ear. "Before you get anymore blood on me."

Trying to subdue his amusement at the blunt comment, Duo's eyes searched out the dark ones before him. Wufei waved his hand in the air as if to shoo him away. "Go on. There will be plenty more investigating to be done once you're stitched up."

When Heero attempted to reach down behind his knees to lift him, Duo protested wildly. And so they walked away towards a waiting vehicle, with the sound of Wufei's voice echoing after them, shouting orders to his newest troops.

* * *

He was very lucky- or so he'd been told by near everyone that had been in and out of his hospital room over the past several hours. He'd received a minor laparoscopic surgery to repair his injured liver, been give a few stitches, and a healthy dose of pain killers. The doctor hadn't even argued with him that much about the regen he was rejecting to reduce scarring. He was to be released sometime before dinner with the order of no heavy lifting or physical activity for the next couple of months. Duo cut that down to a couple of weeks since the doctor didn't know of the little bit of cocktail still swimming through his body that would have him healed in less than a day.

Heero had stayed with him the entire time- excepting for the operating room in which apparently the man had to be given an explanation in no uncertain terms that it was entirely off limits, even to him, ex-pilot 01- boy would Duo have liked to have seen that fun conversation. But after some hours he'd watched the other man's head dip a few too many times- an odd sight in and of itself- and had done his duty as lover to insist on Heero getting some sleep, or else at least a hot meal in the facility's cafeteria.

He'd not been alone for long, the buzz and beeping of monitors keeping him some particularly unwanted company, when there came a soft knocking at the doorway half-covered by a thin sterile curtain hanging from the ceiling.

"Hey," Duo greeted, eyes meandering to the clock hung on the wall opposite his bed and wondering if his visitor had himself gotten any sleep or food in the past twenty-four-odd hours.

Wufei came to sit in the chair previously occupied by another concerned man not more than fifteen minutes earlier. He gave Duo a studious once over and then met his eyes with what looked like approval. "I've brought you something."

Duo watched as he reached into his Preventer coat, the little hexagonal logo on the sleeve creasing with the movement, and then pulled out a long thin piece of paper to place on the other man's blanketed lap.

"What's this?" Duo asked, even as his eyes roved over the familiar lettering and numbers staring up at him.

"The compensation for your services- as promised." Wufei stared down at the check as well.

Duo nodded slowly. "Right. Contract to hire- guess the contract's up then," he said, trying not to let that little ounce of disappointment he felt welling in his gut reach his words.

"That's a good start," Wufei responded, pointing towards the several zero's printed in raised ink. "But a steady salary would also come with those benefits you've inquired on before."

Head coming up, Duo felt his eyes widen for only a second before he reigned in the emotion. Instead he gave a little smirk. "Is that a job offer, 'Fei?"

The man swallowed, as if nervous. "We- could use someone with your expertise," he explained. "It might take a recommendation to convince Une fully, but-"

Duo let out a soft whistle. "You're somethin' else, you know that? After all this, you'd still want to work with me? _And_ recommend me?"

He caught Wufei's eyes as they narrowed, though there was the inklings of a smile hidden somewhere within his expression. "Now I didn't say _I'd_ be the one doing the recommending. You should hear the way Davis talks about you when you're not around. He's developed something of an unhealthy complex."

"Huh- never figured it from him, did we?" Duo's shoulders shook a bit with that.

Wufei smiled then, staring down at hands resting folded against the bedside. "No, indeed we did not."

There was a moment when neither man spoke, the only sound resinating between them the thin beep of the heart-monitor. Duo was the first to break the silence. "Look, I'm flattered really, but I don't know if now's the best time to be making decisions like this-"

Wufei held up a flat palm to stop him. "Of course, take all the time you need. But from my understanding it's an invariable offer- Davis will have no one else as his replacement."

Duo's smile returned. Shit, he really would've never guessed it from the guy. Of course, he'd really never have guessed a lot of things from Wufei either and look where that got him. He blinked a few times and then said, "You know, I've been thinking. What we had was purely physical, fun and all, and yet-"

"Yes." It was hard to tell whether Wufei was prompting him to continue or else agreeing with the sentiment itself.

So Duo swallowed and kept going. "And yet I can't help thinking that if we weren't both so fucking stubborn it might've worked out between us."

He didn't mention the fact that Heero was just as- if not more- stubborn that both of them combined. But that wasn't really the point, was it? Duo watched Wufei closely for a reaction, but the other man's eyes just dipped slightly and his mouth quivered like he wanted to say something, but was holding back. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he'd been in-fucking-love with Heero since they were reckless teenagers and Wufei had always known it and that they'd never have been able to get past that. Yeah, that was probably more reasonable than being fucking pig-headed.

Duo sighed. "'Fei?"

Wufei's eyes shifted to stare at him, shining under the fluorescent lights above. "I think Yuy needs you more than I do-" his vision then momentarily flicked towards the tempered window and out towards a crowded nurse's station "-besides I think I'll be okay."

Duo's own gaze followed the new trajectory, coming to rest on the profile of one Sally Po. He turned back so rapidly his head spun. "Chang, you dog. I knew it!"

A deep blush escaped across the other man's face, but he was saved from anymore of Duo's onslaught of chiding by the sound of a palm-top communicator beeping away from within his coat pocket.

Wufei reached to turn it off with an apologetic look, but Duo caught his wrist. "Take it. Seriously, this investigation is way more important than pillow talk with me."

There was a nod and Wufei stood. "You'll think about the offer then? Not just consider it and then move onto something else- really truly think about it?"

Duo stared up at him, lips pulling. Damn, he'd never seen the man so anxious about anything in his entire life. "Yeah I will, Wufei."

With a little nod of thanks, Wufei turned on his heel, already pulling the communicator from his pocket, when Duo called after him. "Hey, actually can you do me one favor before you go?"

Wufei turned to fit him with a raised brow. "Within reason."

Duo's grin just widened. "Can you find out where Trowa and Quat ended up in this place?"

* * *

He'd had to do a lot of schmoozing and a little more flirting than he'd thought necessary, but Duo had finally succeeded in getting his release time moved up by about an hour. Which in the end was all he really needed.

Heero would be there to pick him up, would at first probably be angry that he was not where he was immediately supposed to be, but once there was a realization for the reasoning behind it, Duo was fairly certain Heero would let it slide. Just this once.

Somewhere along the line he'd been brought some new clothes, which he was grateful for until putting them on and realizing that he wasn't sure the last time he'd ever worn stone washed jeans and a white v-neck, but Heero was actually still pretty new to all that was 'Duo Maxwell' and so he just shook his head and smoothed his braid and followed the directions that Wufei had previously bestowed upon him.

He made his way past the nurse's station with a flick of his fingers and a well placed smile and then he turned into a room very much identical to that of his own. There was the faint hum of monitors and the sound of low breathing, but that was all that greeted him.

Duo stood in the doorway for a moment, first taking in the bedridden man, eyes closed to the world around him though his lids fluttered briefly a couple of times. His skin was significantly less pale since he'd been pulled back from the brink of death just as Duo had been- now on more than one occasion. Then his vision trailed to the man seated in a chair not more than two feet away, eyes buried in a leather-bound book, horn-rimmed frames sliding down his nose each time he turned a page.

It was an awful pretty picture and Duo truly hated to disturb it, but he was here, he had to check on them, make sure they were the real deal and not the monstrous clones that kept popping up across his mind every time he closed his eyes. Shit, that was going to get old very quick.

Quatre, of course, was the first to notice him, perhaps sensing his presence as he stood silent, watching. He turned and those glasses slid further down his nose until he grabbed at them with fumbling fingers, the book shutting unceremoniously in his lap.

"Duo," he whispered, though it sounded rather more like an exuberant yelp coming through the stillness of the space.

Duo smiled as Quatre rose from his seated position to join him closer to the doorway, but still within enough distance that he could reach Trowa within a heartbeat if necessary. A veritable fuckin' Nightingale. "How are you? I heard about your surgery."

"Just a couple of stitches, no biggie," he answered with a slight shrug, though he could feel the bandage taped to his side pulling at his skin with the movement. "But enough about me, how's Tro? And you, Quatre- are you okay?"

"Me? I'm fine." The blond waved him off as if it had been a silly thing to ask. "Trowa will be here for the night and released tomorrow morning. He just has to regain his strength- of course you know all about that."

"Yeah, unfortunately I do." He looked to the man still asleep in the bed with a grim nod.

Quatre cleared his throat then to regain the braided man's attention. When Duo looked back, he was met with a grin. "You know, I think I figured it out."

Brows furrowing, Duo brought a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. "Oh yeah? And what exactly is it that you figured, Quat?"

The man's smile only widened. "I figured out what you've got that we don't."

Damn, he'd not been expecting that. Duo's shoulders slumped ever-slightly. "No, I don't think so," he muttered out, averting his eyes.

Quatre placed a hand on his forearm to physically pull him back to the conversation. "Yes. Yes, I have. You've got the God of Death on your side, Duo Maxwell."

Something rammed through his chest, a pang of some sorts. Duo's vision flicked back to meet glowing aquamarine. Quatre just nodded once in reassurance and then continued on. "If any one of us had pulled that stunt we'd probably be dead. Even the ever-invincible Heero Yuy."

Duo couldn't fight the soft chuckle in his throat. "Hm, maybe."

"It's true, Duo. And besides, it doesn't really matter if we've got things you think you ought to have or we do things you think you ought to do. I look at you and I think 'Duo's really making it.' And you know why?"

Alright, fuck it. He'd bite. "Why, Quat?"

"Because you've got Heero- and all of us- on your side too. And I'd say that means you're 'making it' pretty damn well."

There came a strange feeling just below his ribcage then, something warm and bubbly and almost uncomfortable. Shit, Quatre knew how to fucking get to him. He blinked a couple of times and smiled down at the blond; a real smile, not one to hide behind.

"Would you two stop being so damn cute?" came a muffled voice from the other side of the room.

Both men spun to meet a pair of green eyes watching them from within his bed covers. Quatre was at his side immediately with worried hands. "Trowa- I'm sorry, did we wake you?"

But Duo just followed, laughing out loud and saying, "Nah, Quat. I think your boyfriend here is just jealous."

At the word 'boyfriend' he watched both men startle, a pink hugh invading the tips of Quatre's ears, while Trowa looked as if he were fumbling to find just the right, snide comeback but was coming up empty. Though the fact that neither of them disputed the implication did not go unnoticed.

Duo just met their stares with a cocky smirk. Huh. Looks like Davis was right, he did always have something to say.

* * *

"Anything good?" came the voice from over his shoulder. Duo had his feet up on a desk that didn't belong to him because, according to Une, they were having inter-office issues in finding him a suitable space to call his own. That or else she just wasn't sure where to put him in order to save any of her other precious Prev agents from imploding.

So instead he found himself once again visiting the man now hovering behind him, probably glaring a hole in the boots now marring his perfectly neat and tidy desktop. Duo turned from his palm-top to face Wufei with a general shrug. "Who knew looking for an apartment would be the thing that actually manages to kill me."

It looked like Wufei was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. "It amazes me that you are just now discovering what it means to be an adult."

Duo made a face. "I may legally be an adult- but that sure as shit don't mean I know what I'm doing."

It had been almost two months since the end to their little investigation, though Preventer was still working through some of the grittier details- namely searching out a particular benefactor who had seemed to somehow walk off the face of the entire universe. But they were working on it, or at least so Duo had been told.

The braided man flopped boots back down to the floor and tugged at the hem of his uniform jacket. "Have you heard- I'm off the rest of the week- getting yet another new partner. A girl this time- Une thinks I might be more evenly matched with someone of the feminine persuasion."

"Lucky lady," Wufei snorted out, reaching into a thick folder of papers he was carrying under his arm.

The Chinese man didn't bother to say a word then as he dropped a packet on the desk in front of Duo's curious eyes. The smattering of words that stared back at him were quickly consumed as his vision scanned the front page, fingers nimbly plucking through the rest, his grin growing wider with each passing realization.

Duo looked up to Wufei then, raising a devilish brow. The other man looked back with a blank expression, though there was something just barely noticeable glinting from within his dark eyes. "What will you do with your week then?"

The loaded question was met with a mischievous smile. "Well I've got paid vacation days now and I'll be damned if I'm not gonna take full advantage of my new benefits."

Wufei nodded, satisfied with the answer, and then turned back to vacate his office once more. "Say hello to Yuy for me," he threw back over his shoulder, not able to totally hide the knowing smirk in his tone.

* * *

The man stared at them for the briefest of moments, perhaps at first startled to have any visitors in his small rent-a-office space on the third floor of a mildewed building on a backwater colony in the L1 sector. He'd not hesitated for long though, giving them a nod and letting them to their business of whatever colony-wide intranet servicing they were doing- he wasn't an expert on those sort of things and he didn't much care to question it.

He sat down at his desk, old bones creaking against the stiffness of his plastic chair. Opening his laptop he stared at the boot-up screen, rubbing fingers over his left eye, the lid partially encased in old scar tissue. He did not at first notice the fact that the two men- both in ordinary coveralls with some company logo embroidered on the back- were now moving inwards towards his desk, one on either side. He did not at first notice the sharp eyes surveying the room around them from underneath the caps they wore. He did not at first notice the long, chestnut braid of the man to his left until it was, in fact, much too late to do anything but simply notice.

The blow to the back of his head probably did the trick, but a swift uppercut to his wrinkled jaw didn't hurt either. A few seconds later his wrists and ankles were secured to the chair with thick cable chords until pasty flesh swelled around the biting plastic. And then the two men stood back to admire their handy work.

Duo had already pulled his flick-knife from within the baggy coveralls, twisting it between fingers in an admiring way. "We could do it you know," he said, a tone of near disappointment.

Heero turned to him with a scowl. "I think Wufei would be a bit disappointed."

Trying to hide his amusement at that, Duo twirled the knife once more before pocketing it again. "You're right. Shall we do our duty as concerned citizens then?"

They were already a few blocks away, sitting in their rental, when the sound of sirens could be heard in the distance growing louder as they neared the bland office park. Heero started up the engine and Duo promptly wiped the pre-payed mobile before throwing it out the passenger side window.

Their next stop was the shuttle-port. After all Duo hadn't been lying about using some of his well-deserved vacation days. Quatre had recommended a place, somewhere warm and sunny, and given them an itinerary they would not likely follow. Trowa had bestowed upon them a box of condoms by way of parting gift- revenge for Duo's rambling mouth no doubt. Wufei had promised a permanent desk by the time Duo returned to work the following week.

They drove in silence for a long while, the radio humming old-earth songs in the background, until Duo turned, rubbing absently at his nose. "You know, you never did tell me why you used my name as your password?"

Heero kept driving for a while, looking like he was contemplating a heartfelt answer, but when he spoke it was nothing of the sort. "Maxwell is easy to remember," he said.

Duo's fist lashed out to hit against Heero's arm. "Bullshit, give me the real answer."

There came a laugh then, something deep and resonant and incredibly appealing. Not something Duo had ever heard before, but hoped he would be hearing a lot more in the future. Heero turned slightly with the hint of a smile on his lips. "Because I love you," he replied, entirely confident and sure of his response.

Duo broke into a grin of his own, all teeth. "Yeah, I guess that answer'll do," he chuckled. "Love you too, 'Ro."

He took a deep breath then and held it, reveling in the feeling of utter contentment. Even after everything, Heero Yuy loved him.

Heero Yuy loved _him_.

_No shit._

**End_._**

* * *

**A/N**: I just have a few closing words to add here. I first want to thank all of my incredible readers/reviewers/supporters because you guys rock and have kept me motivated throughout this entire story! So thank you! As well, it seems I've left a couple of possible loose ends here. Now I'm not making promises, but it is a very real possibility that I will continue with this universe/story line and flesh out more things in a sequel. I definitely already have some ideas up my sleeve, but I wanna bust through my current ongoing projects first (ie: _Long_ _Way_ _Down_ &amp; _Down In Africa_), so just be on the lookout in the future. Seriously, I love you guys and this story and it's quite bittersweet to say goodbye to it, but I've got lots of other great stuff coming out right now so go check 'em out while you anticipate the possible follow up to _Maxwell_. Thanks and for now, over and out.


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